Three years after Iraq, I moved to Abu Dhabi for a man I loved. A closet atheist in a Muslim country, in love with a Muslim whose father would never approve. So I pretended. I said the shahada. I wore the hijab. I became what I thought he wanted — and in doing so, I erased who I actually was.

As I read the Quran for the first time, I recognized familiar names, but the stories were different from what I knew. Having grown up in a Baptist school, I knew my Bible. My first impression of the Quran was that it read like someone had written down hearsay.

Then I encountered a hadith that said two women are needed as witnesses because women are less intelligent than men. I closed the book. I walked to the mirror. And with a quiet, sobered acceptance, I said out loud to my own reflection: "Go home, Loretta."

Four years later, by what I can only describe as providence, I accidentally pulled into the parking lot of a Persian restaurant. I had mistaken it for Mexican from across the road. After years of avoiding anything connected to Islam, I almost left — but the traffic was too heavy, so I stayed.

The waiter asked for my phone number and I obliged him. We have been married for thirteen years now. He is a Moroccan Muslim — dedicated and disciplined in his faith. The difference between him and the man in Abu Dhabi? My husband fell in love with the real me, a bitter Atheist. Today, I believe God is using Muslims to bring Christians 'out of Babylon' and back to sobriety in Him. And I believe, God has a big plan for both of us - together.