Yes, I’ve been silent since my “Happy Ramadan” email-card on the first of Ramadan. I’m sorry, but I’m simply speechless.
The only piece of mind I have is that Allahu alam, Allah knows; and I do not. I find myself saying over and over again to myself and my girls “I don’t know…but, Allah does.” I speak of what’s happening in the land we called home just 5-months ago: Gaza.
I’ve been avoiding my own family and friends because they’re politely asking “How is your family?”; and, I don’t want to admit that “I do not know.”
Hubby, my girls and I are aching numb. We’re praying and reading Qur’an all hours of the day and night and it doesn’t seem enough. But, we continue because Allah promises us our due rewards at His prescribed time, either on Earth or in the hereafter.
A blogger who I respected said she stayed silent regarding this latest news because she felt she’d only be adding to the “noise” instead of offering something worthwhile, like a new voice of reason. Well, unfortunately, when she finally broke her silence, she sadly failed at adding a new voice. She actually spewed unintelligent ignorance.
I’m afraid I’m in the same boat in that I know cannot add a new voice–not because I have nothing to say, but simply because I’m not willing to say what’s in my heart and mind right now.
All I want to do is talk to my family. The very people I left 5-short-months ago. I left the land that only gave me 8-12 hours of electricity, rare Internet service, spotty sewage and drinking water…and a slew of other “luxuries” I couldn’t stand living without.
Since I pride myself of not living with regrets, this life lesson is really churning the pit of my stomach right now. My 16-hour fast is too short in comparison to the fasts they are forced to live through right now.
I cannot even eat. I cannot sleep. I weep as I stand before our Lord, begging Him for justice. Pleading for His forgiveness that I was so futile in my complaints of “that poor life”.
I pray that my family gets electricity again, water to drink, gas to cook whatever rice they have left, medicine, supplies…oh, the list is endless. And, yet–what am I to do?
I can’t help but think that about the two hospitals that keep getting bombed. They are one my mother-in-law went for physical therapy, and the one I went to when I was sick with the flu this past winter. The stories are too, too close to “home” for the girls and I. Obviously, even closer for hubby.
Personally for me, I do not think boycotts, petitions or rallies are going to make a difference. I simply have faith and believe that Allah has a Great Plan. And, we need His divine guidance during this time.
After all, this is Ramadan. Shaytan, Satan, is chained up. These are the best 10-days of our year. Allah is listening!
So, stand firm and tall my sister, pray Taraweeh and Laylatul Qadr, perform Itikaft (night prayers and prayers in solitude). Let Allah hear our prayers. Put your hands up in the air and cry for His attention.
For all the pain, suffering, oppression and violence occurring for Muslims all over this world–our brothers and sisters need our prayers. And, when you think you can’t stand tall or long enough, think of them.
When you start to fall asleep while reading the Qur’an, wash your face, make wuduu and know that Muslims don’t have running water to make a refreshing wuduu themselves. Remind yourself that they need our prayers!
Please forgive me, if I’ve wronged you; I’m deeply sorry. I haven’t blogged, my emailbox is full yet again, and my social media accounts are simply flooded.
I, like my family, need to retreat to myself devoting my worship to only Allah. I pray you understand–or, better yet, I ask that you please join me: Pray, Pray, Pray, Pray, Pray! And, when you think you prayed enough, add just one more…and, another…