Over the Years I have made some Muslim friends.
Some of them like spicy food. Some don’t. Some of them listen to rap, others to classical music. Some of them are good at the times tables. Some of them suck. Some of them are skinny, others are a bit meatier. Some of them cover their heads, others don’t. Some are well educated; some don’t know how to read. Some sing in a choir, others play soccer.
The Muslim friends I have are as different as wild flowers in a field during summer.
Of course they have some things in common as well: They feel hunger. They get cold. They can feel lonely. They are afraid. Many laugh when they get tickled. They want to live in peace. They are happy when people say nice things to them.
There are exceptions to this rule. A few people in the world don’t appreciate it when they are complemented. But that is usually not because of their religion, but because of some issue in the past that they haven’t dealt with. There are some that don’t desire peace. But I haven’t met any of them. I have, however, met Muslims who have had to flee from the kind of people who desire to hurt and destroy.
Some Muslims decapitate their so-called enemies. Some practice other brutal forms of punishments for minor or major offenses. Some treat women despicably. They have no respect for human rights. The blow themselves and others up. These people are not my friends. I don’t know anybody who would want to be the friends of people who commit such monstrous acts.
Over the years, so-called Christians have also committed atrocities too terrible for words. I don’t consider these people followers of Christ, and their actions are as deplorable as crimes committed by other criminals.