Take Me Back

After a long day, I need time to unwind. Today might have been long, but the weeks and months preceding have been longer, more hectic, filled with trial and misfortune. I ask myself, have I withstood the test of time. My gut reaction is no. My heart sinks as I think about where I am in life, how I have progressed and where I will go. Despair is a terrible state to be in. I take my Qur’an in hand contemplating whether the oceans found within may be of help to me. "May" i think. "Have I fallen that deep into despair?"

My spirit needs certainty. It needs a sign. It is the catalyst that keeps hope pulsating through my veins and heart—I must revitalize it. As I reflect on my state, my spirit begins to move. It starts pounding at the door of my heart trying to resuscitate it, knowing that it’s on the brink of failure. I yearn for those days spent reflecting on the signs of Allah [swt] and on my own actions. I remember vividly the time when life was easy. Not because there was less responsibility and difficulties, but because those distant days were filled with satisfaction coupled with strong faith. Whatever came my way I felt I could handle. The exams, difficult people, trials. Today, it seems as if my heart sulks in uncertainty—on the precipice between faith and disbelief—a feeling between hope and hopelessness. My heart sinks deeper. It needs to be revived.

Opening the Qur’an, I whisper to Allah [swt] to give me certainty once again. I need it. I crave it. I want it so bad. I ask the Qur’an, “Oh the one who guides the misguided, guide me.” My mind immediately shifts and recollects the days spent growing up in the beautiful colonial home my parents purchased. The scent of pine needles and the warm glow of a Michigan summer’s sun flood my senses. Why I ponder? Why that home, why those summer days spent climbing pine trees and exploring my own backyard. Why? The innocence I conclude—the tranquility that accompanies childhood. That is what I yearn for.

I begin to open the Qur’an wondering what awaits me. Damnation? Hope? Ambiguity? Would God put his servant on this earth and not show him the path of hope and salvation? No, never. I begin to read and immediately I am overwhelmed. My emotions take over and my mind and intellect struggle to make sense of it all. So many solutions I think. He gives solutions; we are the ones that reject arrogantly out of negligence and disbelief.

“Verily, the Muslim men, and Muslim women, and the believing men, and believing women, and the truthful men and truthful women, and the patient men and the patient women and the humble men and the humble women, and the alms-giving men and the alms-giving women, and the fasting men and the fasting women, and the men who guard their private parts and the women who guard, and the men who remember God much and the women who remember God much, for them has been prepared forgiveness and a great recompense.” [Al-Ahzab: 35]

I am in my backyard now. The one which use to be filled with pine trees and crabgrass, cracked cement slabs that make their way up to a rundown garage. The sun hits my face as the wind dances by. I lay there. I hear children playing and birds chirping. The metal backyard door opens and slams abruptly, as it use to always do. My mother walks out, her young face, bright and spotless greets me. My heart is at peace now. The peace I was longing for.

DA Hadi