Summary
SummaryI grew up in a tightly knit Nigerian Muslim family that eventually settled in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. Family and Islam were our glue. We prayed five times a day, fasted during Ramadan, and went to mosque every week, and I even learned to recite the Qur’an in Arabic. Outwardly I looked like a strong, devout Muslim, but inside I felt no real love or personal relationship with God—only rituals I had to complete so I wouldn’t get in trouble.
As a teenager I quietly drifted toward agnosticism. I believed some sort of God existed, but I didn’t feel loved by Him, and I didn’t see meaning in what I was doing. Then God sent a skater kid named Daniel down my street. We became best friends, and when he met Jesus in junior high, he started sharing his faith with me. For the first time I heard a Christian explain that Jesus is God’s Son who died on the cross for our sins and rose again. That clashed with everything I’d been taught in Islam, where calling Jesus the Son of God was the worst blasphemy.
I had so many questions, especially about why the cross mattered. Daniel tried to explain, and even showed me The Passion of the Christ, but I watched those brutal scenes and felt nothing but discomfort. When he asked if I felt the Holy Spirit tugging on my heart, my answer was no. I basically decided Christianity didn’t make sense and stayed agnostic.
Two years later, late one night in high school, I was alone in our dark apartment around 2 a.m. As I walked to my room, I suddenly stopped and sensed God speaking to my heart: “Do you love your family?” Of course I did. Then the question went deeper: according to both Islam and Christianity my family were sinners who deserved to die separated from God. If that was true, would I go through everything I saw in that movie—every lash, every nail, every torment—if it meant my family would not be separated from God forever?
In my mind I saw vivid flashes from The Passion of the Christ: Jesus beaten, whipped, nailed, crowned with thorns. The question kept echoing, “Would you do this so they wouldn’t die apart from Me?” I love my family, but the honest answer was, “No, I don’t think I could.” In that moment it finally clicked. I sensed God say, “That’s how much I love you, Yusuf. I did this for you.” The cross became deeply personal. Jesus’ suffering was motivated by love for me, so I wouldn’t have to be separated from God.
For the first time in my life I truly felt loved by God. That night I laid my head on my pillow and surrendered. I believed that Jesus died on the cross for my sins, that He rose three days later, and I gave my life to Him.
After that, Daniel discipled me as a friend, teaching me how to read the Bible and think through tough questions. At the same time, I hid my faith from my devout Muslim family. Islam wasn’t just their religion; it was our identity and family glue. I hid my Bible, lied about going to church, and tried to follow Jesus in secret.
In college, God lovingly forced my faith into the light. I sensed Him leading me to apply to a Christian summer camp, and when I was offered a job, the director told me I needed to tell my parents I was a Christian that day if I wanted to come. My long-term secrecy plan suddenly shrank to hours. I knew that if I refused, I’d be disobeying God.
With fear and trembling, I texted my dad and eventually admitted that I had been a follower of Jesus since high school. My mom called in tears, saying I’d been brainwashed. Coming home for Thanksgiving was incredibly tense, with arguments about prayer, pressure to go to the mosque, and painful words. My parents heard my conversion as a rejection of our family itself.
My uncle, a respected leader in our mosque, met with me and walked through Scripture after Scripture trying to disprove the divinity of Jesus. I didn’t have answers for everything, but instead of pulling me back to Islam, the experience actually strengthened my faith. God had already taught me to build my life on a real relationship with Him, not just a list of arguments. I knew I had encountered His love and freedom in a way I never had before, and I could not go back.
Over the next few years God began healing my relationship with my parents. The process was slow and painful but full of grace. Today our family is closer and more open than I ever expected after that initial shock. I’m still praying for their salvation, but I can see God softening their hearts.
God didn’t just rescue me from something; He also called me into ministry. He led me into college ministry and full-time pastoral work, helping students know and follow Jesus. Now I get to share the same gospel that changed my life with others who feel trapped between religion and emptiness. If God could chase me down in a dark Houston apartment at 2 a.m. with the memory of a movie I didn’t even like, He can reach anyone.
Interview with Yusuf Agoro.
Yusuf Agoro was raised in a faithful Muslim family in the Houston suburbs. But when as a teenager he placed his faith in Jesus, his devout Muslim parents, relatives, and mosque ordered him to recant. Could his brand-new faith stand firm?
Show notes and detailed description available here: https://compelledpodcast.com/35-a-muslim-converted-yusuf-agoro/
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—————– Source —————–
Yusuf Agoro Pages: Church Bio | Compelled Episode Notes | Instagram
Time Chapters
04:45 Yusuf’s devout Muslim upbringing 12:50 Skater friend Daniel shares Jesus 19:10 Watching Passion of the Christ 24:30 2 a.m. encounter with God 30:40 Growing faith and secret discipleship 35:40 Pine Cove job forces confession 41:10 Family confrontation and mosque meeting 47:05 God restores family relationships 51:40 Advice for loving Muslim friends
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