Merciful Death

Bismillah

I can hear the rain again. It's been raining quite a lot this Ramadhan. Just the other day as my brother was cutting the grass it began to pour. After he came back into the house, we both stood in the doorway overlooking the front yard, both of us enjoying the fresh air while watching the rain. "The clouds are crying and crying for Allah's mercy" I told him. "Mmhmm" he said, allowing me the space to interpret the world as it would work for me. SubhanAllah I thought, "if rain were really the clouds' tears, then what of human tears this Ramadhan... where is my river of subservient tears.."

Shortly after suhur (the pre-dawn breakfast before the fast) today, I heard what sounded like the smoke alarm going off. It was very brief. I'm not sure what it was, but for the second that it went off my mind touched on the idea "uh oh, what's happening?" Before those thoughts could develop, the sound stopped, and I re-embraced the comfort of my life again.

There aren't many people who can boast the same comforts in life that I can. Truly, Allah has given me so much. Beyond meeting all my needs and more, I have the space to grow into the type of woman that I want to be. My limitations are only from myself. Parental guidance is always open, and parental friendship is always for the taking.

But I remind myself that one day... one day... I will be held to account for all of this. Maybe it's because I'm so blessed with comfort and ease and a caring family that I think I should do more with myself. I have the means. But that day I speak of, that day when the alarm won't stop, the world will be in panic. Chaos will manifest itself in a way that we have never known because we forget, I forget, that the calm reflected in nature is only because Allah commands it so. All my current-day comforts will be gone. There will be no need for those type of things. My home won't save me. My family won't save me. My health nor my education nor any rational thought would have the chance to save me. That is the day when I am utterly alone forced to face the reality of the person that I am today and will continue to be until my first meeting with reality.

"First meeting with reality?" you ask. That's when my soul leaves my body and my corpse begins to rot. That's the end of my beginning and the beginning of my eternity. That's when my body moves to a new home, my grave. I like a comfortable home, but I don't know what awaits me. O Lord, save us from the punishments of the grave, ameen!

I want to be with the clouds, submitting to my Lord's Greatness. Yesterday I tried explaining to a young lady what it means to be a Muslim. I tried to tell her what it means to have faith (iman), including the six pillars of faith. I used a handout with a translation of Imam Ghazali's summary to try to guide me in my explanation, but I found that I could not express myself fully. I discovered that I was guilty of ignoring the depth of the very same message that I was trying to share with her. "It's up to you to decide where you stand in relationship to your Creator..." "... We've been created to serve Him alone.. that's our purpose.."

It was so clear to me what this young lady needed to do. Islam is for the taking, but I don't think she has tasted its sweetness yet. I tried, in vain, to convey the idea of what it means to have the sweetness of faith. I'm not sure she understood. God guides whom He wills. I think she just needs time, but while she figures her way out in this world, I must return to what I know is my truth. My comfort. My solace. My being.

I can't fight the ways of this world. I can't know how I'll be when my loved ones and I part into two different realms of existence. I simply don't know what will become of me or my loved ones. I do know one thing though, I am a Muslimah, and that's the greatest thing in the entire world! In this lies hope for me, and in this I rejoice.

Thank you Allah! There is no power or might except with Allah.

*Rain pouring down upon my garden,

rhythm for the wind that sings its song.

I close my eyes, and I'm floating along.*

- Dawud W. Ali

Update 2006-10-09

A video seriously worth watching: If the Dead Was to Talk. A great reminder. SubhanAllah.