Set the clock correctly

Decide now that this is measured in years, and that a decade is normal. The Prophet ﷺ preached to his beloved uncle Abu Talib for over twenty years; some of the companions' parents accepted Islam late in life, some never did, and the Quran holds both stories without flinching. The moment you put a deadline on a parent's heart, every family dinner becomes a performance review, and they will feel it. Take the deadline off; keep the hope on.

And know the actual mechanism. Families are almost never argued into respect for Islam; they are lived into it. Their picture of your religion is assembled from ten thousand small observations of you: whether you still call, whether the religion made you softer or sharper, whether your visits feel like love or inspection. That picture is the dawah. The conversations are footnotes to it.

Answer questions like a host, not a lawyer

• Wait to be asked, then under-answer. A parent's "so you really can't eat bacon ever?" wants two warm sentences, not the fiqh of slaughter. Short answers invite the next question; long ones close the kitchen.
• Answer the worry inside the question. "Will you still come at Christmas?" is not a theology question; it's "am I losing you?". Answer that one first: "I'll always come; I just might bring my own mince pies." (The scholars genuinely differ on the details of attending family occasions; presence-with-love is the strong mainstream counsel, and the boundaries you keep can be quiet ones.)
• Never correct their religion at their table. If your mother finds comfort in her church, this is not your opening. The Quran's rule stands even at home: no insulting what others hold dear (6:108). Your monotheism preaches best undefended.
• Let them catch you practising, never make them watch. Slip out to pray without announcements; return without commentary. Quiet consistency does what demonstrations can't. If they ask what you were doing, that's an invitation; take it gently.

Invite them into joy, not doctrine

The single most effective family dawah in the West is hospitality. An iftar where your father is fed until he can't move; an Eid with gifts for the grandchildren and too much dessert; your new community's warmth experienced instead of described. Nobody softens toward Islam through a leaflet the way they soften after being honoured at a Muslim table. Feed them, and let the month explain itself.

Include them in your milestones sideways: "we're doing a big meal for Eid, I'd love you there" asks nothing of their beliefs and everything of their appetite. And accept their invitations wherever you can; the traffic must run both ways or it isn't family, it's outreach.

The engine room: du'a

Abu Hurairah's mother used to insult the Prophet ﷺ to his face. He didn't debate her; he went to the Prophet ﷺ in tears and asked him to pray for her guidance. Abu Hurairah came home to find her mid-ghusl; she took her shahada that day. That is the template the tradition hands you: the work you cannot do in their hearts, do on your knees. A parent prayed for by name, every night, for years, is never a closed case; and the praying will keep your own heart soft toward them, which the campaign needs even more than they do.

If they never accept

Say the hard thing plainly: they might not, and Islam has already made room for that. Your obligations to them do not shrink by one atom: kindness, service, presence, and honour are commanded toward parents as parents, not as prospects (31:15 commands beautiful companionship even to parents actively opposing your faith). Guidance was never assigned to you; a lifetime of your love is its own complete act of worship, whatever they conclude. And the file never closes while they breathe: hearts have turned in hospital rooms after forty silent years.

Tools for the road: the page written for them (send it once, gently, when the moment is right), a day in the life for the relative who wonders what you actually do all day, and the kit for everything else. Set your pace for a marathon, keep the kettle warm, and let Allah keep the timeline.