The Story of Razan

Instead of comfort, I was met with suspicion and rejection. My church questioned me, my family judged me, and I felt stripped of dignity. I had lost trust in everyone, especially the clergy who doubted my story, despite the marks on my body. My soul was devastated, my spirit crushed, my body wounded, and socially, I was cast aside.

When I reached out to AWT, something shifted. For the first time, I heard the words: “You made the right decision. You do not have to carry this guilt.” I was reminded that God had not abandoned me, that He still cared, that He was still near. At that moment, a door opened for me to begin healing.

Step by step, I started to release the silence I had carried. I was able to express my emotions and, at last, be heard. The team encouraged me to build new skills so I would not sink into destructive patterns during lonely hours. They urged me to search for work and opened opportunities for me to join training sessions through their programs and online platforms. They prayed with me before I went into court, and with their support, I learned to stand before the judge without collapsing in tears.

Gradually, hope returned. Even the church priest who once doubted me began to believe. I noticed my language changing from despair to gratitude. I started to care for myself again, going outside, walking in the sun, and tending to my health and appearance. I began to feel value, even a glimmer of love from God where before I had felt only abandonment.

When I first came, my words were filled with pain: “I am tired and confused. Didn’t God know my husband would abuse me? Why didn’t He stop me? Nobody believes me despite the bruises. I don’t want to leave my room. I hate the sun, the people, the world. I feel like I am trapped in a deep pit and I want to escape.”
But as time passed, my words began to change: “Thank you for your support, prayer, and encouragement. I can now tell my story to the judge without breaking down. I want to go back to church and serve again, because I am not a criminal and not guilty, I am the victim of a con man. I spend my time reading, walking in the sun, and enjoying small joys like music, hot drinks, or a meal at my favorite restaurant. I am learning to love myself, to take care of my body, to live again.”

The road has not been smooth. In April, I faced deep frustration and loneliness. Without a job or divorce papers, I felt trapped. I feared death and could not sense God’s nearness. Yet AWT reminded me that my life was not defined by a failed marriage, that I was still a daughter, a friend, a servant, a sister. They showed me from Scripture that even David and Job expressed their pain and anger to God without losing their faith. That gave me courage.

By May, I found myself clinging to counseling sessions, grateful for a safe space to pour out my fears. I admitted my longing for love and a family but was reassured that my desires were not shameful. I learned to fill my time with good things, family, ministry, friendships, rather than guilt.

In June, I attended the Nouara program, and that was a turning point. Empowered, I began to set boundaries. Even when other church members bullied me for seeking divorce, I had the strength to speak clearly to the priest, to defend my right to fair treatment, and to take my place with dignity. That courage was rewarded: I was entrusted with a new role in ministry and recognized with honor.

Not long after, I found a job in a law office, a step that gave me stability, peace, and a renewed sense of identity. Now, I serve in the church once a week as a volunteer, not as someone hiding in shame but as a woman standing in freedom.

I look back at the pit I once lived in, and I see how far I have come. Through AWT, I found my voice, my courage, and my God again. And most of all, I found the truth: I am not guilty. I am not abandoned. I am loved.