Vestiges

Subscribe Free
Add to my Page

I was born 38 years ago.  In America.  An African-American.  My parents were married but divorced when I was about six years old.  I recall the divorce.  I still have vague memories of my dad driving my mom and I across country in a U-Haul truck with an orange Pontiac hitched to the back.  I remember eating foul canned liver with a red devil printed on the label as we parked somewhere to wait for the rain to subside.  That was a dark night.  I lay in the cab of the truck, my head on my mother’s lap, my feet on my dad’s.  I was the child of divorce, but not a wayward forgotten child.  I knew my father and I knew that my father loved me.

We stayed with friends for some time until my mother found an apartment and a job.  Then we lived life alone together, until, on occasion my mother met a man she liked and would introduce me to him.  I was this tot barometer pretty much thinning the herd until she settled on one man (that she did not marry) who I did not like very much for a long time.

Eventually we moved to “the hood”.  Brookside was a brick housing project comprised of about (I’m guessing here) 30-45 buildings of about 10 or more apartments each.  I believe Brookside was probably once an upscale housing development for white folks that eventually turned brown.  Believe me, it wasn’t just the people that turned Brookside brown, but all that came with it.  The darkness of poverty, teen pregnancies, violence, and drugs.  The desperate stupor that can come over a group collectively was present in Brookside.  It was like a smoke cloud that has long since descended.  The people within the cloud no longer notice the haze.  The people outside the cloud can’t see in.  But, that stupor never seemed to touch the kids.  We were happy; playing games into the night during the summers, smacking on Now&Laters that we bought at the corner store owned by Italians who liked to compare the darkness of their sun-bronzed skin to ours in the summer.  We were happy and innocent, despite it all, until puberty.

Isn’t puberty an ugly time?  Potentially so, anyway.  Yes?  There are so many ways for it to go wrong.  Especially in that environment, which can be as unwholesome as stagnant waste water.  Your body and mind coming of age in a place where so many are corrupt and oversexed.  Try being a budding teen girl there.  It can be hell.  If you aren’t careful, if you don’t have diligent parents (and my mother was as much as she could be) there were people who made it their business to know you, before you could know yourself.

So, how does one come out of that environment a whole, sound, competent individual?  Only Allah knows.  But you can.

Recently, someone dear to my heart and life told me in a fit of anger, “You have to reform yourself.  You still have vestiges of that old life in you.  You have to purge it.”  These words touched something in me.  And I admitted out loud that absolutely, I have those vestiges.  I can not help it.  Now, not being able to help it doesn’t mean going with it and living in that moment, that sickness, but it does mean that as long as I am alive, I will be actively converting each and every thought.  I will be comparing each and every feeling.  I will be questioning each and every action and reaction I have to be sure that it is in line with what Allah would have of me.  And isn’t that the way it should be for most people?

Born Muslims (as this near and dear to my heart person is) often have the luxury of never having been tainted by the mental and spiritual sickness of a life in unbelief.  Couple that with poverty, suppressed thinking, racism (yes, it still exists), and simply not knowing because you were never taught better, and you have a recipe for possible failure.  I had it better than most.  I was my mother’s only child, and she worked.  We never received food stamps, or to my knowledge any other government hand out.  My dad paid child support, and as old as I am today, I can not recall in even the vaguest memory, my father ever telling me “no”.  I had all that I needed and I had most everything that I wanted.

I met and married my husband at the age of 19, and became a Muslim shortly after that.  While I know he likes to take credit for my reversion, I must admit, that after reading Malcolm X at the age of about 17, I knew that Islam was the only viable path for me, no matter how imperfect a Muslim I may be.  I pray five times daily.  I am a hijabi, and I make certain efforts to ensure that my children will be better than I am/have ever been in all the ways that matter.  I fast during Ramadan.  I try to do kindness to others, Muslim and non-Muslim.  And when I say, do, or even think a wicked thing, I immediately make tauba in the hopes that Allah will pardon me.

That said, I am still so incredibly imperfect… There go those vestiges again.

When I seek counsel with Allah , I often ask Him to make me a better person.  But still I wonder to myself, exactly when will I be released from the yoke of my previous existence so that I can be a whole, sound, and worthy Muslim?  Only Allah knows, but surely, if it ever happens, won’t I know it too?  The next question.  Will it ever happen?

It is at these times that I have to remind myself of the times of Prophet Muhammad .  Look at the lives of his companions, and kin.  They were like me, like the convert here in the west.  Surrounded by the sickness of hatred and racism.  Sunk in the mire of a culture that is spiritually bankrupt and devoid of guidance.  And here I am, a virtual castaway constantly looking for a way to at the very least maintain my identity when advancing it seems so difficult.  It is these vestiges that make me more able than the foreign born Muslim to navigate this culture.  I know better what to expect, and therefore, I know what to avoid and what to embrace.   But, similarly, it is like being an alcoholic locked in a bar where everyone is drinking beer.  I know to ask for a soda or a glass of water, but how long can I remain in the bar without being tempted to take a sip of that which is unlawful.  The smell is there, the sound of it permeates, the pretended joy it brings ringing in my ears. 

Let’s be clear.  Islam is the best thing that has ever happened to me.  Embracing Islam, Islam embracing me…this has given my life clarity and power, direction and perception, contentment and peace.  The vestiges?  The ruling on this is still out.  Is this a blessing or a curse?  Do I use it to better direct my path or do I fight to rid myself of it at all costs?  I don’t have the answer to this.  But, it scares me, knowing what I know, having seen the things that I have seen.  It steals the innocence.  It can muddle the clarity, turning all things brown and indistinct. 

Just as I should not be proud of some quality in myself over which I have no control, such as the color of my skin, or the texture of my hair, how can I be ashamed of a past over which I had no control?  Should I be ashamed of those vestiges, the ones that mark me as having once been an unbeliever, a housing project dweller, a woman who had it not been for the beneficence of Allah might have been the 16 year old pregnant statistic - the ones we like to look down upon and wag our fingers at?

Are those vestiges part of my very blueprint?  They act as my compass, saying in the internal voice, “Up to here and no further!”  And I listen, most of the time.

Those vestiges.  What to do about them?

Share This

Almost Time

On October 20th early voting begins here in Houston.  Insha Allah , I intend to be there.  During the primaries, I stood in line, while wearing boots, for three hours, after work, so that I could cast my vote.  My right to vote has never meant as much to me as it does now.  It isn’t just that this election, which ever way it goes, will be history making.  It is the fact that this country has descended to such unforgivable lows in the past few years that.  Each and every vote counts, and if we fail to initiate positive change for this nation, Insha Allah , it will not be because I failed to do my part.  All I can do is be present and pull the lever.

Well that isn’t all that we can do.  I have heard, on only a very few occasions a bit from our candidates about personal accountability.  Being the wealthiest nation on earth (are we anymore?) comes with some responsibility, not just to the world in which we live, but to ourselves.  Affluence (which so many of us take for granted never realizing that we are) should never make us so comfortable with our lives that we forget how to live with a sense of frugality.  We should know how to derive comfort from the simple things.  We should know how to do without, how to make due with little, how find success in the things that are intangible. 

As we strive to fill our lives with the things we think we need, a newer larger car, designer clothes, bigger homes in more affluent neighborhoods, a wall mounted plasma screen television, the mp3 players, the snazzy colorful gadgets and cell phones, we unwittingly crowd out the things that really matter.  Time with our families, time for our faith, time for our studies.

We have become so preoccupied with this life and as a result, so many of us have lost precious time that could have been devoted to preparing for the next life.

There are obstacles, this I know because Allah has promised them.  My most favorite ayats from the Qur’an states:

Surah Ankabut 29:1-6

1. Alif Lam Mim.

2. Do men think that they will be left alone on saying, We believe, and not be tried?

3. And certainly We tried those before them, so Allah will certainly know those who are true and He will certainly know the liars.

4. Or do they who work evil think that they will escape Us? Evil is it that they judge!

5. Whoever hopes to meet Allah , the term appointed by Allah will then most surely come; and He is the Hearing, the Knowing.

6. And whoever strives hard, he strives only for his own soul; most surely Allah is Self-sufficient, above (need of) the worlds.

If we will live in this world, we will be tested in terms of our faith, our families, our livelihood…  None of us will be exempt.  In my own life, I have been able to identify so many of the challenges that Allah has put before me, but Subhanallah, who am I?  I know nothing.  and so, there are countless other challenges that have been set before me that I had no idea were there.

This all gets me thinking, yet again (perhaps this is a continual test for me, Allah knows best) about loving for the sake of Allah , forgiving for the sake of Allah , and acting for the sake of His pleasure.  This has been a recurring thought for me, and Insha Allah , I will find success in this aspect of my life.  May everyone else also learn to master their own nafs toward  receiving the favor of Allah .  Insha Allah .  Ameen.

So, back to the election.  Obama has my vote.  I am all for change, but even more than that, I am all for being proactive.  If I want to see change in my life, in my spirit, in my soul, I must learn to master my nafs, my anger, and even my love.  I must also learn to take part.  I can’t sit down on the sideline and let life happen.  I must vote, and raise my voice and earn this blessing that Allah has given me: Life.  May Allah continue to be kind.

Khaalidah

Share This

Arab=Terrorist=Muslim=Nigger

Just when I want to believe (I have been accused of being an idealist before) that we, as a country, are making headway racially, socially, and economically (what a joke, yeah?), everything falls apart.  Okay, I am not silly enough to believe that all bad things happen just to thwart me, let me make this clear.  Istagh firullah.  It is just that when I am overwhelmingly disappointed, I am really disappointed.

Have you seen the news clip where the little old white lady says to McCain, “I just don’t trust Obama.  I’ve read about him.  He’s a, a, a, a Arab.”  WHERE DID SHE READ THAT?  You and I both know that Arab is code for Muslim.  And unfortunately in the case of bigoted white America, concerning Barack Obama, Arab is code for nigger. 

Arab=Terrorist=Muslim=Nigger. 

Well, when you put it that way, “He’s an Arab,” somehow this makes it easier and more PC to say  you could never vote for him to be your president.  Even I, who by the way is American born and raised, wouldn’t vote for someone who isn’t an American, regardless of their religious leanings, because that just wouldn’t seem right to me.  But this insistence that he is other than what he claims to be is getting old and tiresome.  Yes?

The blame lies on the head of McCain.  His very subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) rhetoric concerning Obama and supposed ties to terrorists was enough to fan the flames beneath those who already had a simmering hatred for the black man who dared to become president.  During the entire election campaign, even the media appears to have been attempting to take a hesitant approach to the issue of race. 

If thou protest too much, or make too much of a big deal…one gets labeled as a racist or hate-monger.

Unwittingly, this is what has happened to McCain.  After unleashing the provincial Alaskan governor Palin on the campaign circuit, McCain appears to be trying to clean up the mess a bit.  Now, at his rallies, he is telling people that no (and I paraphrase), Obama isn’t a bad guy.  He isn’t the boogie man.  He isn’t a crazy Muslim radical.  He is a good guy, a decent family man that I respect.  I just don’t want him to become president because oh yeah, I can’t trust him either, because he started his political campaign in the living room a domestic terrorist.

Am I the only one who sees the absolute contradiction to that statement?  Can McCain have it both ways?  Well, he can try.  But now his town hall meeting supporters are booing him because he won’t follow their line of thinking (at least not out loud) when they chant things like “Kill him!  Kill him!  Kill him!” and “Off with is head!” in reference to Obama at the political rallies.  Are these campaign rallies or KKK initiations?  See why I am disappointed yet?

1.  The media needs to absolutely crucify (like my play on words here?) McCain for getting this entire ugly situation going in the first place.  Even those in the media who support him should divorce themselves of his divisive rhetoric and anger mongering.  Some of them have, but certainly not enough.

2.  It scares me to think that there are still enough of these types of people, ie. angry, racist to the core, ignorant of a true world view and understanding, hillbilly people to actually fill a town hall.

3.  There is a presidential candidate ie. McCain/Palin, desperate enough to resort to and accept the public support of the above mentioned people. 

Well, Obama is ahead in most all polls.  But I am still unconvinced that he will win.  While there are plenty of people who say, I like Obama and what he stands for, I believe that many of them (white folks in particular) will vote for McCain instead when in the privacy of their voting booths because they can’t vote for a black man.

Obama is either very brave or very foolish.  Even if he makes it to the White House, now more than ever, I fear that his  presidency will be all too brief.  We may end up with Joe Biden for president.

Remember the people shouting, “Kill him!  Kill him!  Kill him!”?

It only takes one fool to pull the trigger.

KHAALIDAH

Share This

pol-i-tics

Anyone sick of this whole campaign business?  Sick of McCain and that moose eating woman slamming Obama and ducking issues about the economy?  Anyone sick of Obama softening up like a tenderized steak to make the masses happy?  Anyone sick of this gastly war, the price of gas, the rising cost of cooking oil, milk and eggs?  Anyone sick of the newscasters, who are supposed to be objective and unbiased not sticking to the old addage, “Just the facts ma’am?”

 I have a solution.  Turn off the television and open the Holy Qur’an. 

Share This

That Ramadan Thing

It seems that the need other people have to feed you, grows exponentially during Ramadan.  I find that I have to say several times a day, “No thanks, I’m fasting.”  The funny part is what happens when I say this.  The reaction is almost always some variation of, “Oh, I’m so sorry.  Are you okay?  But you can have water, right?”  Suddenly fasting becomes this horribly trying incurable affliction.  I always respond with a smile, “Yes, I am fine.”

It just goes to show, however, how incredibly backward thinking can be.  What am I talking about?  Had I said something like, “No thanks, I’m on a diet.  I’m trying to get into this really nice dress.”  No one would be apologizing.  No one would be giving me that poor silly religious fool look.  I’d be getting the high five, the thumbs up, the “you go girl!”

I found myself today trying to explain to a non-Muslim what it felt like to fast.  I tried to describe the serenity that comes with shedding the heaviness of food, and delving as deeply as one can into one’s spiritual self during this blessed month.  I could almost see my words rolling away and falling to the floor.  Evaporating.  She didn’t get it.

I don’t expect every non-Muslim to know that it is Ramadan, but surprisingly so many of them do know something.  They say things like, “Oh, is it that Ramadan thing?”  Yeah, it’s that “thing”.  But I suppose that I am wondering exactly what people of other faiths are willing to do for their faith, their God, their way of life? 

I wonder, how would it be to not have a Ramadan?  How would it be to not have a special time each year when I can stop everything and truly reflect, and where everyone else is reflecting too?  Congregational reflection.  Mass reflection.  Communal reflection.

How would it be to never have this special time when the shayteen are chained and helpless against you?  How would it be to never have a special time when you know that your prayers are more likely above all other times to be accepted?  How would it be to never have a special time to regroup and release yourself from the silly things that chain us to this life, like food?  How would it be to never have a time to stop and say, “Wait a minute, is this really what my poor and hungry brethren are feeling each and every day?”

I can’t imagine.  But I do imagine that many of them are probably thinking that they do have their own special time.  Christmas.  Christmas?  But I suppose you’d have to be a Muslim to see just how flawed that comparison is.  There is no comparison.

So, half of Ramadan is gone.  Alhamdulillah.  We only have another two weeks left.  I am feeling a bit sad about it too.  I am afraid of what happens when Ramadan is over.  The same old gluttonous, decadent, nonsensical life?  I am more committed than ever to NOT go that route, to remain steadfast even in post-Ramadan phase.  I want to carry that good feeling with me all year round.  But if I don’t, Insha Allah , there will be another Ramadan next year.  See how great Allah is?  He is always on time.

Khaalidah

Share This

The Test of Sincerity

I have been listening to an ongoing series of lectures by a sister named Mona.  The website to get these lectures, which focus on Sincerity, specifically during the month of Ramadan, can be found on my blog-roll.  The site is called Islamic Happiness.  I encourage everyone to download these lectures (free) and listen to them.

She hits on so many points that I can personally see in my own life.  Namely loving and acting strictly for the sake of Allah .  How many of us truly do this?  I am guilty of failing in this regard, but Insha Allah , I intend to take advantage of this holy month, while the Shayteen are chained and my mind is clearer than ever to incorporate some of these ingenious principles into my life.  Loving and acting for the sake of Allah .

This message hits home for me as I am guilty of disliking and even claiming to hate someone.  Someone in particular.  She has offended me, in some way, that I am sure to her is insignificant, and I have declared an everlasting hate for her.  Astagh firullah.  It is shameful that I have been guilty of allowing Shaytan to guide and control me.  How many of you have despised someone, as the saying goes, until you are seeing red.  Red, as in anger.  How many of you have been in an emotionally challenging situation and lost your head.  Astagh firullah.  I feel fortunate in that I can recognize this failing of mine, because it is Allah ’s gift to me.  He is allowing me the time and the opportunity for me to reform.  How ignorant and arrogant would I be not to take advantage of this opportunity?

Realize, that life is full of just these types of opportunities. 

3. And We indeed tested those who were before them. And Allah will certainly make (it) known (the truth of) those who are true, and will certainly make (it) known (the falsehood of) those who are liars, (although Allah knows all that before putting them to test).

4. Or those who do evil deeds think that they can outstrip Us (i.e. escape Our Punishment)? Evil is that which they judge!

5. Whoever hopes for the Meeting with Allah , then Allah ’s Term is surely coming. and He is the All-Hearer, the All-Knower.

6. And whosoever strives, he strives only for himself. Verily, Allah is free of all wants from the ‘Alamin (mankind, jinns, and all that exists).

 So, I suppose my question to myself and to the rest of the Muslims who are in the daily jihad to live the best life possible is: Are you able to recognize these tests, and if so, do you think that you are passing these tests?  It seems that the smallest tests are the most difficult to overcome.  Or perhaps this is all relative.  My recent and biggest test has been to realize that I can do nothing (absolutely nothing) unless Allah has made it so.  But even more significantly, in most cases nothing at all needs to be done.  The most difficult and the most simple thing is to give it ALL up to my Allah .  This means having faith that Allah will protect me from any entity that may wish to do me harm, because Allah knows and I know not, because no one can succeed against me if Allah does not will it.  This means showing mercy and even love (for His sake, if for no other) because it is a stronger better emotion than hate, or anger, or bitterness.  So I have declared to reform my heart, to act and love strictly for the sake of Allah .  Surely, if I can fast for my Lord, I can love for Him.  I can do anything for Allah , Insha Allah .Visit Islamic Happiness. 

 Pray for us all, that we may be pleasing to Allah , and ever faithful on His path.  Khaalidah.

Share This

Ramadan

Insha Allah , Ramadan will be upon us in less than two weeks.

I love this time of year.  It is almost like doing a refresh on your computer, eh?  You gear down as the shayteen are locked away, and you concentrate on the Most High Allah .  You do more zikr and prayers.  You stay up later and yet somehow find strength that you never knew you possessed.

May everyone have a marvelously fruitful Ramadan, Insha Allah .

I intend to try to write as much as I can here on this blog during Ramadan.  I will speak on my experiences and my progress.  I invite you all to join me here with stories about how you are faring during the holy month.  I find that sharing with like minded people fuels the iman and soothes the heart.  Please do plan to join me in relating your own inspirational Ramadan stories.

Fatiha

Khaalidah 

Share This

Obama Is Not a Muslim. Alright, Already!

Yesterday Obama, then John McCain, was interviewed by Dr. Dick Warren in front of an audience at the mega-church Saddleback.  I watched some of this.  I actually watched more of the warm-up.  You know, the two hours of pontificating on CNN and similar news stations, by so-called political experts discussing what they expected would come out of this discussion.  A major part of this speculating session was devoted to Obama, he refuting rumors of being a Muslim and having to prove to those ignoramuses who for some reason “want” to believe he is a Muslim, that he is not.

Which brings me to a question, and I know you have been thinking it too.  What’s so bad about being called a Muslim?  Of course, if I were inadvertently called a Christian, I would be quick to correct the mistaken party, but I certainly wouldn’t make out like this is some hideous disease.  Surely, the press is more to blame for this.  Obama has, for the most part, remained pretty neutral about this.  He has said that he is a Christian, he has been filmed in his own church, has spoken to people in churches on the campaign trail, and of course there was that never-ending debacle with his former pastor Jeremiah Wright, Jr.  However, in my opinion, neutrality in this instance is akin to fueling the flames.  Why not say, “I am not a Muslim.  I am a Christian and this is my choice.  That said if I were a Muslim, I would be proud of that.”  Or he could say something like, “While I am not a Muslim, I want to be the one to say that Islam is just as decent and valid a way of life as any other and I am disappointed that this has become such a point of contention in this campaign.”  Is this too much to ask for?

Some may say it is too much to ask for.  After-all he is trying to become elected as the first Multi-ethnic African-American in post 9-11 America (ie. highly suspicious and bigoted against anyone who looks like they may be from the East.).  BUT, I say that the actual presidency doesn’t mean as much as the race.  I believe that no matter what he does in office (should he become president - which I hope for, because no matter what he is better than McCain in my estimation) what he is doing right now will be remembered above it all.  His race, fairly clean and dignified as it has been, his character and seeming honestly, the fact that he is NOT the status quo and completely unlike any other candidate this country has ever seen - these are the things that will make all the difference in the end.  And then if he does a good job in office, that will be the icing, but not the cake.  The icing because at the heart of it all, I believe that a politician is a politician, and a politician is a liar.

Certainly, as a Muslim, I feel it is a bit unfortunate that Obama’s Muslim father did not do the job all Muslim parents are charged with, ie. raising the new generation of Ummah, but that is really neither here nor there.  What is done is done, and what is done is forgotten.  Okay, so Obama is not a Muslim, but I do think that he is a fairly good guy, so why can’t he just say it?  He is after-all calling for CHANGE.  Right?  So isn’t this the time to change peoples perceptions?  Is this not the time to be that agent of change, not just in terms of economics and foreign policy but also in terms of how this so-called “melting pot” actually melts?

 Melting pot.  Does anyone use that term anymore?  When I was a kid, maybe twenty-five or thirty years ago that term was used regularly in school to describe the ethnic make-up of our country.  We are a melting pot, not all the same, but we go together in one big happy equal stew.  What happened to the melting pot?  Or have we become more synical; instead of a melting pot we are the main course (white America), and a bunch of side dishes that we can either choose or reject?  If so, America may be on a diet.  A no Eastern immigrant diet, a no Muslim diet, a not anyone who isn’t a Christian like me diet.

“Yes please, I’ll have the fried chicken.”

“Would you like anything with that?”

“Uh…Yes, I’ll have a butter milk biscuit and the all-American apple pie.”

“Would you like anything else?  We have biryani rice, hummus, and couscous as a nice side dish.”

“That sounds weird.  No.  I think I’ll just have a Coke with that.”

But you may say, America is accepting of people who are different, after all it looks like we might just elect a black man named Barack Obama into the White House.  Maybe.  But no matter how much America like African American Barack Obama, they still don’t like us.  We haven’t come as far as we would like to think.

  Allahu Akbar!  Khaalidah.

Share This

Alone…With Allah

I am a convert of 18 years.  A daughter of nearly 38 years. 

I suppose I would start there, the daughter the convert.  Certainly there is so much more to me than that.  I live my life as a Muslim, not incognito, but out there blatantly in hijab and modest dress, never accepting invitations to go out to dinner and drinks (alcohol) from my colleagues.  I field questions on a regular basis about my national origins (I AM AN AMERICAN - FROM CONNECTICUT - THAT IS WHY MY ENGLISH IS SO GOOD!), about why I won’t eat even the chicken, about how my children really don’t feel left out on Christmas and Easter (Do Jews get asked these questions too?), about weather or not I am hot in my Muslim garb (HELLO!  IT IS 100 DEGREES OUT HERE.  WHAT DO YOU THINK?).  I have been doing this reluctant Muslim Public Relations every since I have been a Muslim, and I am okay with it, really.

The thing that I am having the most difficulty with, I suppose, is making a point, standing my ground, encouraging a general sense of understanding and acceptance between myself and my mother.  I am assuming that I am not the only Muslimah convert to have these experiences.  What experiences?  Well, I really don’t know how to describe it, but I’ll try.  There is this feeling, like there is a wall between us, steel or brick, and it is transparent.  There is a doorway in this wall, through which I can get to my mother and she can get to me, but neither of us can see it.  And so, neither of us uses it.  We stand there looking at each other, doing sign language and yelling real loud.  We press our faces up against the wall and we whisper, as if this would help, and somehow we manage to make out some of what the other is saying, bits and pieces, but the rest gets lost and scatters like fallen beads.

I know, all of this is really abstract.  What I am trying to convey, I suppose is that in the heart of me, I know that I will never give up my Islam.  No matter where I go or what I do.  Not even under duress or threat of death.  Not even at the risk of losing everyone or everything that I hold dear.  And I think that this is a threat to my mother, and dare I say, a threat to any parent who in their heart of hearts can not accept that their child had submitted to the will of Allah .  I think I get it though, how she may be feeling.  Probably abandoned.  Like, “This is the child that I raised to be like this, and she/he has rejected it all, has carved out something totally opposite.  What does that make me?  Nothing?  Useless?  Unimportant?” 

I think that the parents who do better at accepting the conversion of their child to Islam, are those who don’t make it all about them.  These are the parents who want for their child what will benefit them most, even if that means that they do not chose their path.

Certainly, I would love it if my parents were Muslim, especially my mother, but I am a realist, and I understand that I can only plant the seed.  Allah is the rain that will nourish and make the Islam grow in the heart of a person.  I am only a seed.  Allah is the rain.  Allah is the ultimate.  But even if my mother were never to be a Muslim, I would continue to love her the same because not only is it my duty, but it is also natural.  Allah has made the relationship between mother and child this way.  This is a magnificent bond.  Ya Allah .

I pray, not only for myself, but for all Muslims who have converted, that we are able to maintain and nurture the relationships between ourselves and our families and good friends as we move from this duniya into the fold of our faith.  I say this same pray for those born Muslims who are practicing their faith, while their Muslim parents are not.  May Allah continue to give strength and courage and serve as our protector.  Insha Allah .  Ameen.

And We have enjoined on the human being in (regard to) his two parents - his mother bore him in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning was two years - Give thanks to Me and to your parents. To Me is the goal. But if they strive with you to associate with Me (gods) you do not know about, then do not obey them. But keep company with them both in the world in an honorable manner, and follow the path of who repents to Me. Then I will tell you what you have worked. - Surah Luqman ayat 14-15

O humankind! Be in awe of your Lord and Sustainer, He who created you all from a single soul, and created from it its mate, and from the two of them brought forth many men and women. Be in awe of Allah and of the wombs (that bore you). Surely Allah is watching over you. - Surah an-Nisa ayah 1

Khaalidah

Share This

A Novel About Aisha?

Check out this article.  Supposedly an novel, characterized as nearly soft-core pornography was written about our beloved Aisha (radhiallahu anha).  ACKH! 

Is nothing sacred?  Is nothing honored? 

 The novel was taken off the presses and will not be released.  Read the article to get more details.  Come back and tell me what you think.

May we acknowledge our sins and make tauba, Insha Allah .  Khaalidah

Share This