How beautiful do thigns appear in Ramadan.
Day 3 today and I have been praying 5 times a day, fasting and have been to taraweeh. I feel complete.
As i get older and wiser I am starting to appreciate my faith and my situation much better. In Allah we trust.
I shall post more about "my situation" but I am happy and in the moment with Ramadan.
The Messenger of Allah (Peace and Blessings be upon him) said: "A Muslim never gives a fellow Muslim a better gift than knowledge through which Allah increases him in guidance or turns him away from harmful behaviour." (Al-Bayhaqi)
I love more now understanding this Hadith.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
I spent the whole day going through my folders and paper work. I found notes and letters he sent to me. My heart sunk, it bleed, I cried I prayed. He has this beautiful effect on me.
Whenever I think of him I think of Allah swt and how desperately I want to be an ideal muslimah.
I piled my photos on the shelf. My happiness only reflective through frames and nothing more.
The glee and happiness I get from reading a riped note, or standing for salat is immeasurable. No numeric measure could determine the happiness and peace that fills my heart and soul.
These have all been introduced to my life by him.
I cant wait for the day my heart is whole again but moreso the day I get to live my life outside the shadows in the best muslimah fashion.
I miss you but I remember Allah swt in every breathe I take.
You have given me the greatest gift.
Whenever I think of him I think of Allah swt and how desperately I want to be an ideal muslimah.
I piled my photos on the shelf. My happiness only reflective through frames and nothing more.
The glee and happiness I get from reading a riped note, or standing for salat is immeasurable. No numeric measure could determine the happiness and peace that fills my heart and soul.
These have all been introduced to my life by him.
I cant wait for the day my heart is whole again but moreso the day I get to live my life outside the shadows in the best muslimah fashion.
I miss you but I remember Allah swt in every breathe I take.
You have given me the greatest gift.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
It so hard to determine where my tale starts.
I am a born Muslim but a delayed devoter. I don't know if such category exists but I think duffy describes it as delayed devotion. When you realise its too late and your on your knees begging please, God please.
I grew up in what my family labelled "moderate muslim" family. From the outside we look "normal". "normal" in the sense that in a crowd of westerners we would blend in. My mother didn't fit the media tic stereotype of hijabi Muslim nor was my dad bearded.
We learnt to fast and refrain from consuming swine. Believe in the basics of Islam, i guess.
We knew of the 5 pillars but did not practice all of them. My parents fit well in the community. Whilst we were Muslim our culture dictated a more liberal approach to religion. For them being good to your neighbour, doing good deeds and generic concepts common in all religions were significant.
The theology didn't really mean anything. I have come to doubt if they really knew the theology to begin with. Political unrest in the homeland caused segregation with the moderate and the more practising. It was very clear in my upbringing where my family fit in.
Anytime a relgious program was on tv or religious debate the channel was changed and the commentator was criticised. if the imam said something that didnt sit well with them he was labelled out of touch and radical or some other terminology. They never sat and contextualised him or what he was talking about.
I held the common values till my teens. I didnt know how to pray but i knew inside I needed too. I was 150% against the hijab and women wearing long clothes. I remember criticising a lady I knew who had worn the hijab after she got married and i recall stupidly arguing it was oppressing and forced by her husband. Today, I hold a more educated view on the issue.
I went to a school run by a cultural organisation which held undelrying religious orientation. Much to the dismay of my mother. The only reasons she agreed was because there would be other people from my culture.
Many of my teachers were hijabi and boys and girls were segregated. Initially I was warned by my mother to hold my stance, not to mix with them and maintain my identity. Till year 7 I didn't know any hijabi women. None of my family or friends were. Praying was an activity done by the elderly. I would see my eldest aunt pray but not very often, she still maintain a western attire and was not hijabi.
It was shun against; deemed backwards, a sign of oppression and a way for men to control women. I always defended these arguments from my mother as she in my mind was strong independent and a feminist. Little did I know she was insecure and had many flaws...
I am a born Muslim but a delayed devoter. I don't know if such category exists but I think duffy describes it as delayed devotion. When you realise its too late and your on your knees begging please, God please.
I grew up in what my family labelled "moderate muslim" family. From the outside we look "normal". "normal" in the sense that in a crowd of westerners we would blend in. My mother didn't fit the media tic stereotype of hijabi Muslim nor was my dad bearded.
We learnt to fast and refrain from consuming swine. Believe in the basics of Islam, i guess.
We knew of the 5 pillars but did not practice all of them. My parents fit well in the community. Whilst we were Muslim our culture dictated a more liberal approach to religion. For them being good to your neighbour, doing good deeds and generic concepts common in all religions were significant.
The theology didn't really mean anything. I have come to doubt if they really knew the theology to begin with. Political unrest in the homeland caused segregation with the moderate and the more practising. It was very clear in my upbringing where my family fit in.
Anytime a relgious program was on tv or religious debate the channel was changed and the commentator was criticised. if the imam said something that didnt sit well with them he was labelled out of touch and radical or some other terminology. They never sat and contextualised him or what he was talking about.
I held the common values till my teens. I didnt know how to pray but i knew inside I needed too. I was 150% against the hijab and women wearing long clothes. I remember criticising a lady I knew who had worn the hijab after she got married and i recall stupidly arguing it was oppressing and forced by her husband. Today, I hold a more educated view on the issue.
I went to a school run by a cultural organisation which held undelrying religious orientation. Much to the dismay of my mother. The only reasons she agreed was because there would be other people from my culture.
Many of my teachers were hijabi and boys and girls were segregated. Initially I was warned by my mother to hold my stance, not to mix with them and maintain my identity. Till year 7 I didn't know any hijabi women. None of my family or friends were. Praying was an activity done by the elderly. I would see my eldest aunt pray but not very often, she still maintain a western attire and was not hijabi.
It was shun against; deemed backwards, a sign of oppression and a way for men to control women. I always defended these arguments from my mother as she in my mind was strong independent and a feminist. Little did I know she was insecure and had many flaws...
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