We had tickets to Donald Trump’s inauguration on the 20th, so my colleague Sterling Henry and I found ourselves in Washington, DC, for a long weekend — ready to celebrate the momentous occasion. The trip had started on a sour note with news that inaugural events would be moved indoors.

Americans who had traveled from places as far as Alaska and the UK to witness history shared their frustration with us (albeit tempered with relief that Donald Trump would become president either way). Scores of attendees still came despite the move indoors. We talked with them on the Metro, on the Mall, and on Pennsylvania Ave. But the most inspiring person we met was in a nearly empty National Cathedral on the cold and snowy Sunday night before the inauguration.

We were supposed to view the ceremony from the West Viewing area on the Capitol grounds, about the closest humble folks like us could expect to view the action. This was going to be a huge privilege for us. We also planned meetings with other conservative media contacts and had a mission to distribute promotional materials.

On Sunday, we spent a long day learning the DC public transport system, visiting our representative, Chuck Fleischmann, and trying to determine how far our plans would deviate when we chose to venture to the National Cathedral. An Evensong service was on the schedule, so it was no surprise when that was canceled, too. The entire DC environment seemed to be screaming, “Don’t come!” But we were there anyway, sitting in an all-but-empty monument to a nation founded on principles of faith.

This is where we met a woman I will call Martha. She had traveled with her brother to witness the inauguration. Having knocked on over 12,000 doors for the Trump campaign, she may have been the most invested participant among us. But her story was more than political. It was about a life transformed.

Martha was originally a Muslim. We learned that in the 1970s, she and her family fled Iran for America. Her son was unable to escape and was kidnapped and murdered there. We all listened in shock as Martha recounted how she had slipped into despair, resorting to self-destructive behaviors, but how, in her darkest moment, God showed up.

One night, when Martha was sleeping, a man glowing with light came to her in a dream. He had her son with him, alive and well, holding him by the hand. From the man’s face came the most pure and brilliant light. This man, she said, was Jesus. He told her He was her savior, that she should follow Him, and assured her that her son was safe with Him.

When Martha awoke from her dream, she renounced her Muslim faith and immediately became a Christian. From that day forward, she told everyone she met about her story and the truth of the Gospel.

We gave her an olive wood cross as a gesture of faith and friendship.

I thought about Martha for the rest of the trip, especially following the remarks made by Bishop Mariann Budde just days after our time in that same space. I thought about the tenets of mercy. The distinction between the roles of the church and the state in society. I thought about the Rule of Law and the mandate that God has placed on governments to uphold it. Most of all, I thought about Martha’s story about salvation and Jesus’s transformative power.

It occurred to me that Martha embodies a bridge of sorts. She’s an immigrant, a “woman of color,” and a former Muslim. For those who subscribe to the theology of DEI, these characteristics might consider Martha part of a “protected group,” eligible for special treatment. But to her, these were all secondary. Above all else, she is now a Christian. She is not defined by her immutable characteristics. She is defined by her actions. She is defined by her faith.

Our nation will face many legal, spiritual, and moral challenges in the future. As what we hope will be a new American golden age begins, maybe we should ask ourselves one fundamental question: Will we be defined by how we look or by how we act?

May we, as Americans, along with other newly elected public servants, be open to transformation through Jesus and, like Martha, overt acts of Christian faith.