I saw it again last night.
Ya Rabbi. What does it take to stand shoulder to shoulder in prayer? What does it take to have one nice full saf without a gaping hole slicing the prayer line into two? It’s like an ugly smear, garishly tainting an otherwise perfectly painted picture.
Please. Small steps are all that you need to make. Quite literally.
We went to Masjid WP last night for our Terawikh, which was the first in these 25 nights. This month, the primary location has been at home or at my granmama’s for the night prayers, so to finally return to a place of familiarity when it came to Ramadhan obligations felt comforting. For those who aren’t in the know, the Masjid WP tradition has been in the family for 7 strong years, and this is despite it being at a considerable distance away. I can’t explain our addiction to that particular mosque; but last night’s Imaam for the first 8 raka’ah may have had something to do with it. His recitation was enough to make the heart weep.
(By chance, we spotted Econs lecturer Prof Arif as he was entering the praying area. His name would ring a loud bell with UIA debaters, no doubt.)
I have something to share. Whether it’s an advice of any value, that would be up to you.
Lately, I’ve noticed a lot of bad blood going around. I’m not talking about petty tiffs or disagreements. The fallout has been major. I’m pointing no fingers, nor do I side with any party, but it’s something I find very sad. For friendships once strong to disintegrate and crumble into nothing…it’s tragic.
I remember this line I read from this book I read about a decade ago, where the story’s central character had stubbornly said “Just because you’re Muslim doesn’t mean you have to love everyone.”
Fair enough.
But I’m reminded of Hassan Al Banna’s saying:
Islam is an Aqidah (creed) as well as a
nationality. Unlike nationalities which are based on land, the
nationality of Islam is based on brotherhood in faith and, therefore,
is far stronger and more meaningful than the former.
The ukhwah is something you don’t simply take lightly.
Coincidentally, I received this in my Inbox recently from my dear ukhti Amna, a Londoner whose friendship I was to gain when I met her in Nottingham last year:
You know you’re right.
You know what I’m referring to - those
times when you get into an argument(s) with a family member, friend,
boss, employee, coworker, classmate, teacher or whoever. You know your
facts are right or that you’ve been wronged with an insulting remark,
sarcastic comment or rudeness.
And so, you choose to hold a grudge.
After all, you’ve got a right to. Nobody should be treated this way.
Why should you forgive? You’re not the one who started this. You’re not
the one who doesn’t have the facts straight.
True. You may be right. But forgiving others, apart from positively affecting our health (less stress) and our minds (one less negative thing to focus on), is a necessary step to closeness to God.
How can we move up the ladder of
spiritual development when we hold bitterness and anger towards another
person? While we may have been in the right, is it worth sacrificing
our energy on a grudge instead of on growth?
Is there not something strange about
asking for God’s forgiveness of our sins while withholding our
forgiveness from someone who has hurt us?
One of the distinguishing features of Ramadhan is forgiveness. The Prophet explained in one Hadith that Ramadhan was a month whose beginning is Mercy, whose middle is Forgiveness and whose end is freedom from the Hellfire.
This makes it a great time to ask God for His Forgiveness. It’s also a
wonderful time to open our hearts and cleanse them of grudges and
bitterness by forgiving others.
Let us use these remaining days of forgiveness this Ramadhan to open our hearts to those who have wronged us and forgive them as we beg Allah to forgive us.
Forgiveness is not an easy thing. One finds that he has to look into the very depths of his soul to summon enough willpower to choke down the hurt, swallow back pride, and make the first move to forgive.
I should know better. For the people who have affected me so in these past few years, I am still searching for the inner strength to let it go. That courage has all but eluded me, but I think it’ll come. I will forgive one day. Eventually. Insya Allah.
As for right now, I can only hope that the general scenario at present time will shift into one of tolerance at the very least. The tongue can be a dangerous sword. It’s time to sheath it. Tend to the inflicted wounds. Stitch and mend before bitterness envelopes the body and soul beyond help.
Ultimately, forgive and heal.
Enough said here.
