Bismillahir Rahmanir Raheem.
I placed my letter down and sat on the floor next to my little desk. I pulled out two diaries,one belonged to my mother and the other to me.
I absently caressed my leather bound one,my words poured out into it like an echo of my soul,pooling together till the weight of the past slowly fell away. He was the one who gently encouraged me to write because it was therapeutic, that was true.
I was only 24 but there were days when the caverns of my soul felt like I was a 100. I opened my mother’s diary, back to the pages I was reading on the night that we arrived home. I looked at the calendar, tomorrow will be exactly fifteen years since then.
It’s amazing how we get hurt when we allow human love to replace the love of Allah in our hearts. We attach our self worth to the criticism and compliments of people, we fall apart like a wilting rose in her dying moments when we are hurt by the curt and cold words of someone we yearn to only hear warm approval from, we bloom and gloat when someone feeds us with praise,basking in it.
No one, no one ever in our lives,whether parent,child,sibling or soulmate,friend ,foe or family,will not,not hurt you or let you down.
But Allah,our Allah? The very One we forget while chasing the approval of people, is the One consistent Love of our lives. The Only one we keep turning back to at our worst moments because ,who else will have us and our dirty,stained hearts? The only door that never shuts though we have left it. Allah,Al-Wadood,the Loving,The Kind.
I have sat in a plane and flown above the clouds,I have floated above the mountains in a hot air balloon but I have never experienced any flight like the soaring of my soul when I handed over my heart,only to Him. I remember those days and I can still taste that ecstasy, inshaaAllah,I will find it again.
Was that not what the love of Allah was? The lost treasure of a believer, wherever he found it,he takes it. For that belongs to him.
Being a wife,mother,sister,daughter,teacher,worker,friend,employer,whatever role we play, is not the sole object of our lives,but a role that we have to fulfill with love and grace,BUT it is not the object of our short sojourn on this earth and that’s what kept me going, I knew why I was here and I had to keep going. As Allah said in the Qur’an Kareem…
And that was where my mother went wrong. Her efforts and her anguish stemmed from people and her relationships. And how can humans with all their flaws , be the sum of our lives and efforts?
Abu Huraira reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said:
وَمَنْ كَانَ يُؤْمِنُ بِاللَّهِ وَالْيَوْمِ الْآخِرِ فَلْيَقُلْ خَيْرًا أَوْ لِيَسْكُتْ
Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day, let him speak goodness or remain silent.
Source: Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī 6110, Grade: Muttafaqun Alayhi
Transliteration; “Mann kaana yu’minu billahi wal yaumil aakhiri falyaqul khairan aw liyaskut”