I believe my life's story is a textbook, cinematic illustration of the struggle for the human soul, waged by Light and Darkness. As long as God saved me, so long did the enemy and the Lord battle for my soul.
Before coming to Christ, I professed Islam. But frankly, I was never a zealous, much less fanatical adherent of this faith. One might say Islam for me was an inherited tradition, something taken for granted. After all, I was born and raised in a traditional family of Muslim culture.
And only after 47 years did I realize that Islam had never been spiritually close to me. Therefore, my renunciation of Islam was not connected with spiritual torment nor was it a betrayal of ideals. My wife Sona played a key role in my becoming a Christian, and the path we overcame together.
I married at twenty-one a girl from Dagestan, and we lived then in Azerbaijan. More than two decades ago, despite our burning desire, we could not have children. I then possessed a decent fortune, which I thought I had earned independently, considered myself one of the most successful people in Azerbaijan, close to President Ilham Aliyev and the Republic's highest leadership. But at the same time, I was a loving husband and family man. And the impossibility of fulfilling our cherished goal—to bear children—darkened our life, weighed heavily on our emotional state. I could not shake the sense of injustice in what was happening and a feeling that changes were coming.
Soon our daughter was born. My joy and happiness knew no bounds. But in 1998, our first trials descended upon us.
A month and a half after our daughter's birth, I was in a serious car accident. Returning home at night, around 3 a.m., I fell asleep at the wheel from exhaustion. Near a cemetery called "Wolf's Gate" there is a mountain road, very dangerous. Upon waking, I saw my car at full speed flying down a mountain pass over a cliff. Consciousness disconnected, images flashing past melted into awareness, as if I were watching a film shot in first person in slow motion. Time stopped. Then for the first time in my life I directly addressed God, whom I did not know. I repeat, I was Muslim because it was the custom, expected, an integral part of the culture surrounding me, but I felt no connection with God. I had questions for Him: why are you taking me if just now you gave me a child, why, if you're taking me?
As I spoke and thought, the car came down on its wheels. It was over. The roof of the jeep was gone. I don't know how, but in such a mangled car I still managed to drive home. My wife by tradition was waiting for me at the gate. When I drove up in what remained of the car, she couldn't hold back tears. Somehow I opened the door. But to my wife's and my astonishment, I didn't have a single scratch on me. It was undoubtedly a miracle. But the joy was short-lived.
Two weeks later our daughter died. It turned out that the baby had a heart defect from birth. And we knew nothing of it. Medical detection of congenital pathologies in the post-Soviet Union was at an extremely low level. I couldn't accept it, was angry and inconsolable, appealed to heaven for justice. Why did you save me, but take the little one? Being alone, I kept saying: "You should have taken me instead"…
It was the end of summer 1998, and literally a week later came the economic crisis and default. In one night I transformed from a dollar millionaire into a pauper, left owing more than I had earned. Soon, from despair, I broke down, began to drink and became addicted to light drugs. I thought: is there a God, why is this all happening to us? My wife began seeking the Lord, while I went to excess.
In 2000, Sona became pregnant again. Later I learned that to make this happen, she secretly, fearing scandal, began attending a Christian church. Much later she told me that she had made a covenant with God: if she could become pregnant, she would accept Christ and His teachings.
I remember the moment she said she was pregnant. My joy was endless. Learning I would be a father, I gave God my word to stop drinking and live right.
And soon came an event that was destined to radically change our lives. We had a baby. A boy. So the Lord ordained, though I didn't know it then… Sona suggested naming our son biblically—David. I thought she had gone mad. A child with such a name in a Muslim country would be an outcast, if he could survive at all. We didn't know that God could speak. I thought I wouldn't be understood, since I associate with people from the government, those who occupy high offices.
In my joy I booked a hall in a restaurant for 100 people. Among the guests were politicians, officials, and businessmen—all my friends, I was friends with all of them. In the midst of celebration, when they began asking what I had named my son, to my own surprise I loudly proclaimed a toast: "To David!"
Around 3 a.m. I arrived at the maternity hospital and shouted: "Sona, how is David?"…
But I broke my covenant with God: I neither quit drugs nor drinking, yet business went well. I closed my debts and obligations, again thinking I was very lucky. When David was a year old, I finally quit drugs, but did not stop drinking. It was hard for me. When you have money, power, and no restrictions, you can allow yourself anything. Later I began hearing more and more from my wife that she wanted to go to church…
But I first learned about my wife's secret not from anyone, but from my informal partner, the Republic's Prosecutor General Zakir Garalov, who said that sympathy for the Christian faith provokes collective indignation in the highest offices (of course, I understood which ones), and that he too experienced similar feelings. He gave me an ultimatum to forbid my wife from attending this "sect," actually a church. By the way, the church at that time, like us, was going through difficult times. The authorities waged a long campaign against it to force it to flee.
Forbidding my beloved wife to attend church was not so simple. I would permit, then object, then agree, then resist… At one point, a famous pastor of the church "Word of Life," Swedish preacher Karl Gustaf, came to Azerbaijan. I invited my wife and children to dinner at a restaurant, but she said such a dear guest had come, she couldn't neglect him. Then I suggested inviting him to dine with us. The invitation was accepted. At the table were Pastor Rasim, Karl Gustaf, my wife Sona. I poured the guests Hennessy cognac, but Karl refused, explaining he didn't drink at all. I was very surprised! After all, it's one of the finest cognac brands. Like medicine itself! I didn't yet understand what the will and faith of a strong man meant.
At that time in my life and business was a bright white stripe. I had turned 35, and we had already been blessed with a third daughter, Daina. It was 2008. Sona invited me to go with her to church. Of course, I was aware that the story of my wife's fascination with Christianity wouldn't pass without consequences for me, that now my person was the subject of special attention from the country's leadership, enviers, and ill-wishers. Attention that could cost me my fortune and position, serve as a pretext for a devastating attack on my business assets, strip me of the status I had been so openly proud of.
Yet I decided to go and see what the authorities were so worried about. And I listened to the sermon. I can't say exactly how, but it touched me, even tears came. But our former Muslims began praying loudly in different languages.
That day we had a scandal at home. I forbade Sona from attending that church, and only allowed her to pray at home…
I had to try everything; I even threatened to kill her if she continued going to church. To which she calmly replied: if you kill me, I will immediately stand before God. In short, as you've already guessed, I chose my family.
Time passed; in 2010, when the company had grown tremendously and I weighed 150 kg, business was booming better than ever, I was opening roads and bridges with the president. The Republic's infrastructure was developing rapidly thanks to us; as I said, the first oil money began flowing into Azerbaijan. Every day brought guests and meetings that lasted late into the night. And by 8 a.m. I was already at work. I rarely saw my children or family, chased big money, but soon everything was destined to change.
One day Sona came to me and said that dark clouds were gathering over me. I understood immediately what she meant. After all, I had been given a chance to "come to my senses," and what had I done?
Not only had I failed to convince my wife or, in the end, force her to renounce Christian ideas, but I myself, to my surprise, had begun to provide material assistance to the parish. Well, I can only say that sometimes we perform irrational, even inexplicable acts that seem insane, and only years later do we learn that they were the only right ones. Deep in my soul I sympathized with Sona's fearless determination and suspected that Christianity attracted me with its wisdom, all-conquering goodness, and unconditional love. My entire path showed that love is the only force capable of defeating evil.
Soon my former partner Garalov invited me and said my affairs were bad, that those above didn't want to tolerate my disobedience. I found myself at a crossroads: either divorce my wife, because she was immovable in her determination to preserve her faith, or force her to obey me. So the dogmas commanded me, for a woman's obedience in a Muslim country is one of the important norms.
Despite the threats, I was nonetheless given the opportunity to leave the country and move the children to Switzerland. We lost our business and all the means I had earned over long years. I was angry at Sona, reproached her that we were suffering for God, asked her: "If He is so merciful, why doesn't He protect us?" Moving to Switzerland, I began fighting with the Azerbaijani authorities, to which the greater part of my business had gone. This continued for three or four years. My share was worth more than a billion dollars; they gave me some pittance and said: be glad they didn't kill you or put you in prison.
The faith that had always been in my soul in the form of conscience seemed to flip again. And my biography was zeroed out once more, especially after several years of life and work in Moscow, where I went, driven by the desire to recreate on Russian soil the stolen construction empire. This time the role of high-ranking patron and frontman in dealings with the authorities was taken on not by Prosecutor Garalov, but by the king of commercial real estate, God Nisanov and his associates…
However, my new Moscow partners turned out to be partners of the Azerbaijani authorities, who moreover had their eyes on my new business and began to take it from me. I trapped myself again and again lost my business.
Of course, doing the same thing and expecting different results is foolish. But if then, in Azerbaijan, I was only just becoming acquainted with God and His providence, then after several years of partnership with Nisanov I came close to accepting Christ.
My soul more than before resisted the lifestyle I was leading: kickbacks and bribes for construction permits, nepotism and favoritism, schemes—in short, wealth acquired by fair means and foul. The path I had taken under pressure from new "partners" and which deep in my soul I despised, humiliated my pride, leaving a bitter residue in my heart. Today I understand that it was no accident I became a target of hostile takeovers twice. Subconsciously I wanted to lose what I had gained, though I was neither a naive fool nor a clinical failure (otherwise I couldn't have earned such money).
In both cases I attracted and let "troubles" into my life because I could no longer exist as before. I lacked the courage to admit to myself that an honest life, without bribes and kickbacks, without unrighteous patrons, was dearer to me than unrighteous wealth, but I lacked the resolve to refuse it. And God helped me again.
In describing the nature of the devil, Goethe wrote: "I am a part of the power, that eternally wills evil and eternally works good"…
Through the hands of my enemies, God freed me from the burdensome weight I could no longer bear, and lacked the courage to throw down.
In 2019, we spent a month doing nothing but moving. David arrived in America first, to help with a mission from a San Francisco school. In record time, in a month, the entire family received U.S. visas. The persecution continued. People knew where we lived, how we lived. On August 1st, my wife and I flew to America. Before that I had a visa for ten years, but had never been to America. When I went to get my visa at the U.S. consulate in Berlin, the officer was surprised: why, if I'd had a visa for 10 years, had I never come to America, and now I was planning to. I was given a visa for one year. The children were given visas for three years. When we still lived in Switzerland, my sister bought David tickets to a UFC fight where Khabib Nurmagomedov was fighting; it was in Abu Dhabi. My daughter asked permission to go there with her brother to see the fight. I objected, but she persuaded me, and I allowed it. On September 3rd, 2019, they flew. A few days later, September 8th or 9th, they called from the airport: "…they canceled our visas, we can't fly." Mom had always taught them to be honest, and they said their father was waiting for them in the USA where he was doing business. Hearing this, the Arab border officers annulled their tourist visas. In one day the family was divided by the borders of three countries. I with two small children in the USA, one of them only 6 years old, the older children in the UAE, and my wife in Switzerland.
In life I was used to being surrounded by subordinates: secretaries, employees, workers, housemaids. But here—probably for the first time!—I was alone. I had to learn all the housework: washing, ironing, cooking. I remember never understanding how a man could do this?! But I learned everything. I began to understand that God was leading me this way toward humility, removing pride. We spent a fortune on lawyers so the family could reunite.
On one day, it was February 4th, 2020, I, as usual, picked up the children from school, fed and watered them, put them to bed, and again found myself alone with gloomy thoughts. Separation from family, the futility of efforts to reunite (by that time we'd already spent enormous sums on lawyers)—in short, I was in despair.
Suddenly I heard loud and distinct words: "What are you doing with your life?" Besides a cat, there was no one nearby; the children were asleep upstairs. I don't believe in talking cats. As the reader may have noticed, I've experienced terrible events: a car crash, attempts on my life, poisoning, heard threats from those quite capable of carrying them out. Perhaps it will be hard to believe, but almost always I managed to overcome fear easily. And only this time, for the first time in my life, I was seized with genuine terror. Beside myself, as if in oblivion, I found myself in a closet where, frantically searching the shelves, I found a small volume of the Bible; began flipping through it, tried to read passages from the New Testament, but the print was very small, nothing worked. I suppose from the side this looked comical, but I was in no mood to laugh.
Not conscious of my actions, I muttered lines I could read. The next week I didn't go to bed without the Bible. And my wife sent me texts of the most well-known prayers, which my surprised daughter read: "Mom, Dad is asking me to read him the Bible and prayers." I think, as a neophyte, this was forgivable, since I had never heard them.
My interest grew, and I began looking up different sermons on the internet. I liked Pastor Shevchenko best of all.
It was summer. The children and I were resting in Carmel. And again despair seized me. By that time the family had already been separated for almost a year, and business was going worse than ever. Life was collapsing. Unbearable grief and yearning had been my constant companions for several months. At some point I understood that I could no longer live like this and had to change everything! As if obeying an unknown instinct, I fell to my knees and cried out: "Lord, forgive me; I surrender. I recognize Your power and love. From this day on I give my life into Your hands. Forgive me, if You can"…
I didn't yet know what to pray for or how to do it, but I certainly knew to whom to address my prayer. And that, I dare assure you, is the most important thing! On July 2nd I called my wife in Switzerland and said: "Sona, my dear, for 21 years you alone have prayed for my soul and asked others to pray, endured strict fasts—all of it for my salvation. But now everything will change; today I have accepted God, and He, I hope, has accepted me." Despite everything that came before, my wife was taken aback by the news.
In the evenings we prayed with the children. At first Daina and Damir read prayers while I repeated. I knew that in Islam prayers are memorized, not alive, and I already understood that this is what distinguishes Christianity—here God is alive. I experienced His power, felt that very "touch" about which everyone who has known Him speaks with such delight. Since I liked the sermons of Pastor Shevchenko from the church "House of Bread," I asked Sona to arrange a meeting for us. At first we received no invitation. In a response that came a week later, it said I could speak with any pastor.
In September we went to Las Vegas for 3 days to celebrate our daughter's birthday; she was turning 13. I decided to stay a few more days for business related to my work. The pandemic allowed me to travel with my family since school classes were online. I suggested to the children that we stay in Las Vegas for another month; we rented an apartment.
By that time I already had a clear need to go to church. Daina found almost no churches because they were closed during the pandemic. In short, we found a small Protestant church. On October 18th I voluntarily came to church for the first time on my own.
I remember that when we were getting ready to go, Daina noted that we were not properly dressed for church, since our things were in Los Angeles. "If God loves us, He will accept us anyway, no matter how we look," I answered. We were dressed for summer: in shorts and flip-flops.
It was a small Protestant church. At the entrance we were met and warmly greeted by Pastor Vadim. I remember thinking: "Well, what kind Christians are these! We come for the first time, and we're welcomed so warmly, they not knowing who we are." We were used to life where your treatment in society depends on your position. Here it seems no one knows who I am, yet I'm received at the highest level. In short, the worship service began. I simply repeated along with everyone as they raised their hands, sang the praises with the group following the text on the screen. And I remember feeling a very strong presence of the Lord at that moment.
When the service ended, I approached the pastor and told him that my family and I hadn't been able to reunite for over a year, and I was staying here with the children. I asked him and the parishioners to pray for our reunification, that God would open doors before us. That same day I made a covenant with God: "As long as I live, as long as I can physically move, I won't miss a single day, not one Sunday, forgive me for not doing what I should all this time, and living in a worldly manner."
We began to pray. One day I told my wife that I had lost faith in lawyers, since enormous sums had been spent with no results. After prayer, we began filling out the embassy application ourselves, this time without lawyers' help.
In a very short time God helped us: on December 3rd my wife arrived.
God answered all our prayers. Every week we went to Las Vegas. I knew no other church. Pastor Vadim held me up as an example to those who didn't attend services, living nearby: "You don't come from a half hour away, and here these people come from Los Angeles." I answered that I had been fooling God for so many years that now I was ready to travel 3 or even 5 hours to Him. For me this now meant nothing. The Lord God is alive, He is with me, glorious and wonderful. And we would follow Him to the ends of the earth.
When Sona arrived, I said I wanted to be baptized. She said to me: you know what's required for that… And began listing all the conditions. I said: listen, I want to make a covenant with the Lord.
I came to know the Lord in mature age, at 47. She objected, saying that this rite requires preparation. In short, my wife had been taught over 21 years that church preparation was necessary. I said that I came to God, to Christ Himself, not to church. In short, I argued with her, convinced her, and when I began to cite Shevchenko's words, she replied that she had been watching his sermons for 15 years.
In short, by the time Sona returned we were already friendly with Pastor Shevchenko. Together we came to "House of Bread." After the service I told Pastor Alex that I wanted to be baptized in the church in Las Vegas. And then he asked if I would have the courage to do it online, on a live broadcast.
I was surprised by such a question, but wasn't confused at all. What could stop me if I came to make a covenant with God? He said that many Muslims, Jews, undergoing baptism, ask to keep it secret because they fear for their lives. As a former Muslim, I understand this well because I know how radicals view and react to this. Killing converts to Christianity by their co-religionists is for them like a feat deserving a ticket to paradise. However, I was not afraid and expressed readiness to undergo the rite, as they say, in front of cameras, publicly. Soon I passed an interview, and on January 10th, thank God, the baptism was performed.
After this, real miracles began happening to me.
The first miracle happened at Christmas.
On December 24th, my wife and I for the first time in our lives celebrated this bright holiday together, went to our neighbors, exchanged gifts… That day I told her I wanted to speak with Pastor Rasim. I should say that all this time I suspected him of deceit and helping my enemies. I thought he had told how I was helping his parish with money. After all, Garalov and others had given me accounting entries showing how much money I had contributed.
For more than 10 years I lived with resentment toward this man. I thought what happened was very unfair because I was suffering for a good deed I had done. In short, I had never told Rasim any of this, but harbored resentment and couldn't forgive. On Christmas we found his number, called, and I told him that now I am a Christian, the Lord has accepted me into His family. He was so happy hearing the news.
We began to pray together, wept. In the morning we were preparing to leave for Las Vegas for the service. We went to bed, and I saw Pastor Rasim in a dream, which surprised me since we had just been talking. And I see: some room, and ahead he walks, I ask: "What are you doing here?" And at that moment through a small window from above an blinding light falls into the room, so bright I couldn't look at it. And that same voice I heard on February 4th says to me: "Rasim was praying for you all this time, he didn't betray you to your enemies and is not guilty in what happened to you." I tried to wake up and grasp the silhouette, but immediately opened my eyes, covered in cold sweat. Looking at my watch, I realized that no more than half an hour had passed since falling asleep.
I woke my wife, she couldn't seem to wake up, and said: "Pastor Rasim is not guilty"… Until morning I couldn't fall asleep again.
We drove to Las Vegas, returned. I called Rasim and said: "I ask your forgiveness for thinking ill of you all this time." He told me where this could have come from.
Glory to our God that He opens and shows us everything directly so we have no doubts, no burden. Because this burden had pursued me. Before, when I was not a Christian, I simply thought: "Well, how many people have done me evil… And Pastor Rasim is one of them…" But it didn't bother me cold or hot. And when the Lord touched me, this became a concern. After baptism, when life began to change in another direction: where there is the main Book, the Bible, in which one can find Words of comfort…
Here is the Old Testament. Proverbs of Solomon, chapter 31:
"Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her, saying, Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates."
…I thank the Lord for such steadfastness in God and such persistence in my wife, that she did not turn from the Lord and did not abandon me. I don't know where I would be, who I would be, and what I would be doing. All this time I thought I was the toughest. When people attacked me, shot at me, poisoned me. And only today do I understand that my wife's prayers saved me. When Satan tried to destroy me, she stood firm in her faith, in God's word, believed, did not renounce God and always prayed to Him.
The second miracle was, without exaggeration, healthy, deep sleep. Yes, my whole life I slept no more than 4 hours a day. It wasn't that I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to, but couldn't, and even sleeping pills didn't help. After baptism that same day I slept 8 hours. Before this was almost impossible.
We always get what we truly want, not what we think we want. I for a long time couldn't admit to myself that business built on lies and theft—others', but with my connivance—made me richer but not happier. But God is wiser than us, and if we don't resist His providence, He gives us a way out from under tyranny and from abandoning evil deeds.
This will sound strange, but I genuinely rejoice that I no longer have dishonest billions. And if you don't believe me, ask those who have them how much happiness they've brought. They won't answer. And if I had to make this choice again, now and a hundred times after, I would choose my family and my God, not gold.
From then on my life will never be the same again. I can no longer tolerate lies, hypocrisy, theft, and other sins that prevented me from belonging among those strangers, among Garalovs and Nisanovs. Believe me, you can't be a little dishonest and somewhat dishonorable. The doubtful in the best case will share my fate; they will be swallowed by the real tyrants and selfish ones of this world, because they know nothing of pangs of conscience. Success on this path is achieved only by genuine villains. And to all who have a conscience (God in their soul), I advise not to play games with the Devil!
