IF I WANT TO KILL MYSELF, YOU CAN’T STOP ME

J. Grant Swank, Jr.

I get through the airport checkpoints.

I rent an apartment in mid-America.

I take on a blue-collar job because I don’t have any degrees by which to get any other kind of job.

I check in with the local mosque. I meet the cleric.
Five times a day I pray from my prayer mat. I read my Koran.

I remember quite well all that I was taught back in my Muslim country. My parents, devout Allah worshipers, did not miss a paragraph in our holy writ. I never missed a meeting at the mosque. I took the vows of being a Muslim male.

I kept to myself as far as my non-Muslim neighbors were concerned. I smiled at them. I did not show any negative aspects to my persona. I was gracious appearing and neat about myself.

I was punctual at work, obeyed orders, showed appreciation for my job.

I actually bought an American flag and positioned it by my window at the front of my apartment. It was readily visible to passers-by.

I kept in touch with family back where I had come from. We all had email access. One furnishing that I made certain I had was a computer. I was computer literate.

I read Muslim web sites daily. I got to know some of the webmasters via emails back and forth.

I kept particularly informed concerning world and national news daily.

I also made certain that I was an integral part of the local mosque, not only in its Friday prayers but its workings for Islam. Or should I say for Islam World Rule?

I believe in the Koran’s Allah as the only deity. I believe in the Koran as "holy." I believe in the Prophet and would die for his cause on Earth.

I of course found other Muslims of like commitment. We sensed among ourselves a solid consecration to Allah’s will for our destinies and our mission here on Earth. Though I was not living in my former Muslim country, I could feel its Islamic presence all about me. I prayed that that would never leave me.

As I proceeded to work for a Muslim sleeper cell, I made certain that none of my workmates knew of any of my fine line loyalties regarding Islam.
Frankly, I appeared as a Muslim-in-America who was especially thankful to be in a free nation.

I took on certain patriotic trappings that convinced non-Muslim persons that I was harmless. They reached out to me as if I were a friend, especially a friend in need of an American kindness.

I took full advantage of the American bridge building toward me. That seemed natural on their behalf. It was a part of their being a citizen of a republic. That served me quite well in what I had planned on behalf of Allah and Islam World Rule.

No one ever chided me for praying five times a day with a prayer mat. I never heard any derisive comment concerning my being a Muslim. In fact, no one really asked me anything about religion. I came to realize that many Americans consider another person’s religious convictions to be especially personal — almost private.

No one asked me about the back home experiences I recalled since a small boy — honor killing, slaying an adulteress by planting her body in the ground while neighbors stoned her head till dead, whipping youths who broke the law — tying them to public posts in the town square, slaying infidels or Muslims who converted to another religion, beating unruly females who got out of line or wouldn’t wear the proper clothing.

As I worked more and more for Islam World Rule, it fell my lot to commit suicide for Allah. I knew that taking my own life for Islam World Rule would propel my soul immediately into the Muslim hereafter. Dying did not frighten me. I had seen many suicides for Allah. I had grown up with blood in the streets. I had seen lawbreakers hung from public road poles. My parents had told me that it would be an honor for them to have me someday give my life for Allah in suicide. My two brotehrs had died suicide deaths. I was proud of them. With that, I had a zeal for death if it pleased Allah.

"God is great" was enough for me and my existence.

On a Friday morning, I was assigned to an open market near my apartment. I was to take my life there in front of the market when it was particularly full of customers going about their daily errands.

I wrote in my journal about my surrendered earthly existence to Allah. I wrote a prayer for my family back in the Muslim country from which I had come. Then I signed an appreciation note to the cleric at the mosque who had mentored me in the way of the Koran.

It did not take long for me to walk to the market. Within an hour, noting mothers with their children and fathers in a hurry rushing to one place or another, I blew myself up.
"God is great."

I knew that if I wanted to kill myself, no one could stop me. And no one will stop any Muslim committed. That is why thousands of Muslims now pouring into the United States will be a perfect platform for establishing Islam World Rule.

And no one will be able to stop us.

Article here.

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I reposted this simply because this is one of the best articles Pastor Swank has ever written. Articles like this deserve to be on the front page of every National Newspaper. But they wouldn't dare touch it with a ten foot pole.

Jeff Davis