I read this somewhere recently and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. So much so, that I knew I wanted to write about it today. But the thing is, everytime I sat down to write about it, nothing came to me. All that happened was an overwhelming gratitude towards Allāh for the blessings I have today and all those that I’d forgotten I’d prayed for over the years.
I know in the past I’ve told you guys about the letters I write to Allāh from time to time as a means of developing a deeper connection, but out of a want to ensure it remains a personal thing, I never got around to sharing any with you. But, today, I’d like to share one. It is one that I return to often and reread when I need to change my perspective, and one that never fails to remind me:
I thought it only appropriate that I write to you because really, who else do I have to turn to? Allah, today I don’t want to ask anything of You. Today, I simply want to thank You. For all the favours You have bestowed upon me, known or unknown, I am eternally grateful. You have seen me in my dark, and You have seen me in my light, and still, You have carried me through. Ya Rabb, if this isn’t proof of your limitless love and mercy, I don’t know what is. My Lord, often I banged my fists against the wall and wondered how You could stand back and watch me burn myself down to the ground. But, I understand now.
There was hikmah even in my self-destruction.
You wanted me to see that You were there all along. Even in the depths of my despair, You were there, ready to prop me back up if I slip and fell too far. You wanted me to feel destruction and chaos in every fibre of my being so that when my heart eventually turned towards You, I would understand that this was always my birth. I would understand the stillness that my soul is capable of when it is in Your servitude. Ya Rabb, You know better than I do that there are still some off days from time to time, but they are rare and far in between, and I am so thankful to You for this. Thank You for giving me the gift of time – it taught me that it truly is the best of healers. My Lord, thank You for this gift of life and all else that You have bestowed.
I’ve received a lot of DMs on Instagram which I’ve been hesitant to answer because most of them go along the lines of praising the level of productivity and asking for tips on how they can also maximise on the time they have at home. For the most part, my default response has been a resounding “DON’T BELIEVE THE HYPE”.
When choosing favourite verses from the Qur'an, mine was a verse from Surah Takwir [81:26] and it goes like this: "So where are you going?" and that's it. It's as simple as that, and I think compared to a lot of the verses that I'd heard from my peers, this one seemed entirely basic. They had all chosen verses that spoke volumes about the of the grandiosity of God, His mercy, the amazing way in which the Earth was created, and the intricacies of this world.
Sometimes a teacher, sometimes a student, but mostly caffeinated. This blog is a terrible attempt at writing out my thoughts - think of it as the 'comments, complaints, and suggestions' section of my brain. Nevertheless, I hope that some of these words will find a place in your heart and will stay with you even when I do not. If you'd like to get in touch, send me a message on Instagram or leave a comment on one of these posts and I'll get back to you at the best possible time.
I thought about this title for a long time, and in every way that I try to phrase and rephrase it, it comes back to this one word, unpacking. Unpacking my mind. Unpacking my heart. Unpacking my house. Unpacking my home. Unpacking me.
This is not a book where the marriages break or the characters fall out of love, this is a book that walks the very fine line between a mid-life crisis and a crisis of faith. This is a book that can be entirely summarised by this single line, "[it was] ordinary in every way except for the fact that it happened to have one of the world's finest gothic cathedrals in the middle of it".