| By Quail,
on 29-03-2004 19:41
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Published in : , Articles |
Six years ago when I became a Muslim, I did so with a minimal of outside influences. I remember feeling a sense of contentment knowing that I found a truth in Islam that was not biased by people. I even remember feeling pride when telling people I refused to meet with Muslims until I took my Shahadah, because I knew they could only give me a dim reflection of what Islam was. There I sat in my ivory tower suggesting that Muslims were like dusty fractured mirrors. Then came the Shahadah - declaration of faith.
I was whisked away in the euphoria of knowing that I was making the right decision. Yet, there was a part of me that was also mesmerized by cultural practices and people that were as colorful and breathtaking as a fine Persian rugs. I surrounded myself with the very people whom I tried so hard to stay away from. People whose intentions were not the best and others whose ideologies were embedded in a web of bitterness, insecurities, and ignorance. I wanted to be accepted into these groups and did so with reckless abandon to my own spiritual needs.
After two years, I felt like a ship that had been tossed around on a turbulent sea. I was heart sick and left dazed. I still held to the belief that Islam was truth, but despaired that I could never live up to the standards that had been set before me.
Life had become a series of frustrating ups and downs. I would go to extremes. One minute I would move away from my religious obligations and then be snapped back by an incredible sense of guilt that I should be a far better Muslim, which I had allowed to be defined by Muslims who held very radical views.
It took the birth of my second daughter, Noora, to make me realize I was lacking authenticity. How fitting that my daughter, whose name means light, illuminated my life and brought me to a greater understanding of who I am as a Muslimah. She has inspired me to “get it together” for the sake of her and her sister. She is counting on me to be a guide in her life. All other people blur together in the background of my religious thought. And that is the way it should be. That is what I intended when I first became Muslim.
It is now with a great amount of resolve I move forward cultivating the soil of my family to bring up children who understand who they are as servants of God. I pray and strive for a time when my girls will stand up in truth against oppression and evil. I pray that they are the mirrors that so many of us have been unable to become, because we have allowed our own thoughts and ideologies to become fractured. I pray that the dust of anger and bitterness does not encrust their mirrors.
May our children be clear reflectors of our deen. Ameen.
Last update : 29-03-2004 19:41
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