Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Justeru itu
Delisa,Abi Usman,Ummu Salamah,Fatimah,Aisyah, Zahra, UStaz Rahman, Smith, Dr.Sophie, Tiur, PAk Acan, Umam....
Terima kasih ya kalian?
Hafalan Shalat Delisa hebat sekali,sarat dengan pengajaran, bisa meruntun jiwa.
"Susah itu muncul kerana kita melakukannya tidak ikhlas, bukan kerana Allah"
Friday, January 13, 2012
Smiley Friday ^^
Things that made me smile today:
-went to a kenduri doa selamat+birthday today.
-welcoming and warm hosts [I think I've mentioned about them somewhere last year]
-the dad who calls the mom "syg" in front of others. [I find it romantic when the elders do that]
-a cute girl suddenly came and leaned on me [mother-earth material out of no where,LOL]
-yummylicious food...bloated...alhamdulillah.
-AWESOME people are just AWESOME!
May Allah bless these kind people always,ameen =)
-went to a kenduri doa selamat+birthday today.
-welcoming and warm hosts [I think I've mentioned about them somewhere last year]
-the dad who calls the mom "syg" in front of others. [I find it romantic when the elders do that]
-a cute girl suddenly came and leaned on me [mother-earth material out of no where,LOL]
-yummylicious food...bloated...alhamdulillah.
-AWESOME people are just AWESOME!
May Allah bless these kind people always,ameen =)
Monday, January 2, 2012
Refreshment
One of the speakers that really touched me with his speech was Sheikh Navaid Aziz. Before TOF I never heard of this name at all so alhamdulillah for the opportunity to know such a great man.
I would like to share with you a video of Sheikh Navaid giving his speech i found in youtube. Such a profound video. It made my heart wept T_T
>>>>>HERE<<<<<<<
Me? No comment *better safe than sorry*
I would like to share with you a video of Sheikh Navaid giving his speech i found in youtube. Such a profound video. It made my heart wept T_T
>>>>>HERE<<<<<<<
~He who has no one has Allah. He who has Allah has everything~
This life is a test from Allah. Both calamities and blessings are test from Allah. We should be both patient and grateful and Allah will give glad tidings to us.
"And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient, (155) Who, when disaster strikes them, say, "Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return." (156) Those are the ones upon whom are blessings from their Lord and mercy. And it is those who are the [rightly] guided. (157)" [Al-Baqarah: 155-157 ]
This was shared by a friend of mine in FB regarding single men and ladies. I remembered what Dr.Harlina Halizah said when a sister asked a question during the workshop [TOF]. She asked about is it wrong if a sister stays single because she wants to achieve her dreams first? [well it goes something like that] and Dr. replied it is not wrong for a lady to still be single due to that matter but one must not block or close their hearts toward accepting the idea of entering marriage or finding a partner when the right time comes.And we must continuously repair and improve our relationship with Allah.
Me? No comment *better safe than sorry*
Sunday, August 14, 2011
A better you, a better me
I like to see...no...I love seeing people making the effort to change and be a better person. Wallahi I really do!
Like recently, I realized a coursemate is making the effort to wear hijab and wanting to be a better Muslim, I might not be telling her directly,but, the fact is, I feel so so happy for her.
There's this thing when people always say : "alaaa tunggu lah dapat seru/hidayah dulu" in matters like; covering the aurah for ladies, perform the obligatory 5 times daily prayer, etc.
It's really a very very WRONG perception. Hidayah won't come rolling to everyone, only to those He wishes... but if we have that "determined" inner feeling of wanting to make things right and we put our very best effort, then inshaAllah He'll show us the light.
Wanting to be a better person, a better Muslim might be difficult at first...We just need to take baby steps, one thing at a time, as long as we are persistent@ ISTIQAMAH!
So,friend, if you are reading this, know that I am so happy for you and will make du'a that Allah make the future path easy for you, ameen
May Allah make ease my path too,ameen...and yours too :) [to anyone who's reading this lah]
touched by Kak Dina's INI KISAHKU's video clip : HERE
toddles~
salam~~
Like recently, I realized a coursemate is making the effort to wear hijab and wanting to be a better Muslim, I might not be telling her directly,but, the fact is, I feel so so happy for her.
There's this thing when people always say : "alaaa tunggu lah dapat seru/hidayah dulu" in matters like; covering the aurah for ladies, perform the obligatory 5 times daily prayer, etc.
It's really a very very WRONG perception. Hidayah won't come rolling to everyone, only to those He wishes... but if we have that "determined" inner feeling of wanting to make things right and we put our very best effort, then inshaAllah He'll show us the light.
Wanting to be a better person, a better Muslim might be difficult at first...We just need to take baby steps, one thing at a time, as long as we are persistent@ ISTIQAMAH!
So,friend, if you are reading this, know that I am so happy for you and will make du'a that Allah make the future path easy for you, ameen
May Allah make ease my path too,ameen...and yours too :) [to anyone who's reading this lah]
touched by Kak Dina's INI KISAHKU's video clip : HERE
toddles~
salam~~
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Confessions of a Niqabi
I always thought there was something wrong with women who wore the niqab. Why on earth would one go into isolation by covering every part of her body and especially the face? Did the niqabi think that she was a superior Muslim, one who had attained true salvation? That’s what I thought before I interacted with niqabis. I was averse to them, and I always thought that they were the “extremists” everybody talked about.
Honestly speaking, I was wrong, and I was a victim of my own ignorance. Born and raised in a life of comfort and luxury, I had forgotten that there was a world beyond designer clothes, shoes, and make up; a world where true beauty meant character and a beautiful heart. Perhaps I was walking on a path whose architects were those people who were never satisfied with anything. I was a slave of the world. I knew where to get the best food, clothes, and accessories, but I didn’t know where to get a good character. Wherever I went, many men would look at my face twice, and since that was the criterion of how people dealt with me, it worked perfectly for me. At one time, I even wanted to be a fashion model when I grew up, but being Muslim was the only barrier.
My paradigm shift came when my friends tried to get me to do things that would displease Allah. I was betrayed and shattered by their behaviour. So I cried to Him; day and night I cried; eating and bathing I cried. I only made one du’a, a du’a from the heart – I prayed to Allah for good company. Hence my journey to the beauty of Islam began. He blessed me with some of His followers who made me realize the beauty and significance of hijab. I took baby steps as advised by one of my friends, FH, and after the piece of cloth was on my head, I wore an abaya. But my baby steps didn’t end there, for an abaya was still too little for what I wanted to achieve. I attended some classes on spirituality, and there I met the most amazing people I’d met on earth- niqabis. They had the most beautiful hearts. Their character helped me refute those claims I had made about niqabis all my life. These were all well educated women, professionals from prestigious universities, and they were not isolated in any sense. Each of them played an essential role in society. Some were doctors, some were full-time mothers, and others were architects, lawyers, and teachers.
I fell in love with these women. For whenever I saw them, I always got a chance to look within myself and evaluate my heart. What was my relationship with God whom I loved so much? I wanted to become a niqabi, but at the same time I knew that my face veil would turn me into a stranger in the eyes of the world. I asked a lot of my friends for advice, and they told me to make niyyah (intention) and leave the rest to God, and so I did that. I had to crush my desires, I had to step on my ego, and I had to do things differently. My friends helped me a lot. One of them pointed out that any man who saw my face could keep a mental picture of me. This thought was a shocker since I had removed all my pictures from Facebook so that men couldn’t bug me.
I also asked my friend, MJ, if the niqab was obligatory, and she told me how she didn’t get involved in the fiqh issues, but did it for love of the Lord of the Universe. I asked myself if I loved God enough that I would dress for Him, and the answer my heart gave me was not in the affirmative. I was upset, but I didn’t stop praying to Him. I prayed to Him for guidance, I prayed to Him for righteousness, I prayed to him for modesty, I prayed to Him to make me live up to my name, Maryam, and I prayed for His love. My du’as gave me so much strength that the same day I went to an Islamic shop and bought myself a face veil and wore it right there.
I didn’t tell anyone, not even my family. My mother was at a family tea party, and I decided to disclose my niqabiness there. The result wasn’t pleasing. My dear mother stopped talking to me; perhaps she feared that I would remain single for life. I felt homeless, miserable, and alone. My father didn’t know because he didn’t live with us, and at that time, there was too much friction between us to go to him for help. My friends told me to treat my mother even more nicely than before, to never hurt her, and to be extremely kind to her. It was a difficult time. While at home, I would cry in my room and pray to God for support. I would spend much of my time in the Masjid.
One day I happened to go to a family brunch, and when one of my uncles saw me, he mocked, insulted, and shouted at me. He told me that I had joined some “mad women club.” All I did was smile under my niqab and assure myself that he loved me and said that only impulsively. My dad was there too, so my uncle told him to keep a check on me as though I had joined a terrorist group or something. Alhamdulillah, my dad supported me, and somehow I felt that the friction between us two was melting away. I was intimidated by my uncle and decided to stop going to places where he was present. When he invited me and my family for dinner, I decided to skip it. I called my dad and told him that I wasn’t going. He told me not to be afraid of anyone and that I had taken the right step. Islam stays the same no matter if sometimes people refuse to practice it. My dad told me that he was proud of me and that I had the support of the Lord of the Universe.
So I went to my uncle’s place, and he asked me if I thought that I was better than everyone else. When he repeatedly shouted at me, misquoted me when I defended myself, and refused to understand what I was saying, I felt like someone had stepped on my heart. I couldn’t stand there anymore as fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I rushed home and cried like a baby. Then, my mum came home and hugged me. Her hug after days of silent treatment meant a lot. She told me that she defended me at my uncle’s and that I hadn’t done anything wrong.
The aftermath of the niqab was that I learned to focus on my character. I became even closer with my mum, and the barriers of communication between me and my dad ended. I learned not to judge people. I learned to be patient. Now when I look in the mirror, I tell myself to be on my best behaviour wherever I go instead of focusing on my outer beauty. My niqab is my safeguard; it reminds me that my heart belongs to God, and that He is the only one who deserves my sincerity and love. I am not afraid of the world and all the comments people throw at me anymore. I remind myself that people have been imprisoned by others, but I am a free woman who can dress to please my Lord and not His creation. Islam gave me a right to live my life in a very honourable and respectable way. Islam taught me to love myself. It taught me that the beauty given to me by God was a gift not to be exploited, that I was not chattel who would be manipulated by others, that there was more to me than my looks, and that I had a brain that worked perfectly and an intellect that differentiated between what was right and what wasn’t.
We forget our purpose in life. Our sole purpose is to obey Him, for He didn’t create us for any other reason. I am on a journey to the Hereafter. Perhaps you might be averse to the way I dress, but I want you to realize that it’s time we transcend trivial issues like our dress and focus on more important issues like loving Allah ta’ala and emulating Prophet Muhammad sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam. Niqab, hijab, and abaya are all secondary. What’s more important is to understand the purpose of our creation. Once we do that, then all the secondary things will fall into place inshaAllah. This life is transient and takes only a few hours in comparison to life in the Hereafter. For Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala reminds us in Surah Yunus Verse 45:
TRULY INSPIRING! :)
source: HERE
credits to FH for tweeting me this :)
Honestly speaking, I was wrong, and I was a victim of my own ignorance. Born and raised in a life of comfort and luxury, I had forgotten that there was a world beyond designer clothes, shoes, and make up; a world where true beauty meant character and a beautiful heart. Perhaps I was walking on a path whose architects were those people who were never satisfied with anything. I was a slave of the world. I knew where to get the best food, clothes, and accessories, but I didn’t know where to get a good character. Wherever I went, many men would look at my face twice, and since that was the criterion of how people dealt with me, it worked perfectly for me. At one time, I even wanted to be a fashion model when I grew up, but being Muslim was the only barrier.
My paradigm shift came when my friends tried to get me to do things that would displease Allah. I was betrayed and shattered by their behaviour. So I cried to Him; day and night I cried; eating and bathing I cried. I only made one du’a, a du’a from the heart – I prayed to Allah for good company. Hence my journey to the beauty of Islam began. He blessed me with some of His followers who made me realize the beauty and significance of hijab. I took baby steps as advised by one of my friends, FH, and after the piece of cloth was on my head, I wore an abaya. But my baby steps didn’t end there, for an abaya was still too little for what I wanted to achieve. I attended some classes on spirituality, and there I met the most amazing people I’d met on earth- niqabis. They had the most beautiful hearts. Their character helped me refute those claims I had made about niqabis all my life. These were all well educated women, professionals from prestigious universities, and they were not isolated in any sense. Each of them played an essential role in society. Some were doctors, some were full-time mothers, and others were architects, lawyers, and teachers.
I fell in love with these women. For whenever I saw them, I always got a chance to look within myself and evaluate my heart. What was my relationship with God whom I loved so much? I wanted to become a niqabi, but at the same time I knew that my face veil would turn me into a stranger in the eyes of the world. I asked a lot of my friends for advice, and they told me to make niyyah (intention) and leave the rest to God, and so I did that. I had to crush my desires, I had to step on my ego, and I had to do things differently. My friends helped me a lot. One of them pointed out that any man who saw my face could keep a mental picture of me. This thought was a shocker since I had removed all my pictures from Facebook so that men couldn’t bug me.
I also asked my friend, MJ, if the niqab was obligatory, and she told me how she didn’t get involved in the fiqh issues, but did it for love of the Lord of the Universe. I asked myself if I loved God enough that I would dress for Him, and the answer my heart gave me was not in the affirmative. I was upset, but I didn’t stop praying to Him. I prayed to Him for guidance, I prayed to Him for righteousness, I prayed to him for modesty, I prayed to Him to make me live up to my name, Maryam, and I prayed for His love. My du’as gave me so much strength that the same day I went to an Islamic shop and bought myself a face veil and wore it right there.
I didn’t tell anyone, not even my family. My mother was at a family tea party, and I decided to disclose my niqabiness there. The result wasn’t pleasing. My dear mother stopped talking to me; perhaps she feared that I would remain single for life. I felt homeless, miserable, and alone. My father didn’t know because he didn’t live with us, and at that time, there was too much friction between us to go to him for help. My friends told me to treat my mother even more nicely than before, to never hurt her, and to be extremely kind to her. It was a difficult time. While at home, I would cry in my room and pray to God for support. I would spend much of my time in the Masjid.
One day I happened to go to a family brunch, and when one of my uncles saw me, he mocked, insulted, and shouted at me. He told me that I had joined some “mad women club.” All I did was smile under my niqab and assure myself that he loved me and said that only impulsively. My dad was there too, so my uncle told him to keep a check on me as though I had joined a terrorist group or something. Alhamdulillah, my dad supported me, and somehow I felt that the friction between us two was melting away. I was intimidated by my uncle and decided to stop going to places where he was present. When he invited me and my family for dinner, I decided to skip it. I called my dad and told him that I wasn’t going. He told me not to be afraid of anyone and that I had taken the right step. Islam stays the same no matter if sometimes people refuse to practice it. My dad told me that he was proud of me and that I had the support of the Lord of the Universe.
So I went to my uncle’s place, and he asked me if I thought that I was better than everyone else. When he repeatedly shouted at me, misquoted me when I defended myself, and refused to understand what I was saying, I felt like someone had stepped on my heart. I couldn’t stand there anymore as fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I rushed home and cried like a baby. Then, my mum came home and hugged me. Her hug after days of silent treatment meant a lot. She told me that she defended me at my uncle’s and that I hadn’t done anything wrong.
The aftermath of the niqab was that I learned to focus on my character. I became even closer with my mum, and the barriers of communication between me and my dad ended. I learned not to judge people. I learned to be patient. Now when I look in the mirror, I tell myself to be on my best behaviour wherever I go instead of focusing on my outer beauty. My niqab is my safeguard; it reminds me that my heart belongs to God, and that He is the only one who deserves my sincerity and love. I am not afraid of the world and all the comments people throw at me anymore. I remind myself that people have been imprisoned by others, but I am a free woman who can dress to please my Lord and not His creation. Islam gave me a right to live my life in a very honourable and respectable way. Islam taught me to love myself. It taught me that the beauty given to me by God was a gift not to be exploited, that I was not chattel who would be manipulated by others, that there was more to me than my looks, and that I had a brain that worked perfectly and an intellect that differentiated between what was right and what wasn’t.
We forget our purpose in life. Our sole purpose is to obey Him, for He didn’t create us for any other reason. I am on a journey to the Hereafter. Perhaps you might be averse to the way I dress, but I want you to realize that it’s time we transcend trivial issues like our dress and focus on more important issues like loving Allah ta’ala and emulating Prophet Muhammad sallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam. Niqab, hijab, and abaya are all secondary. What’s more important is to understand the purpose of our creation. Once we do that, then all the secondary things will fall into place inshaAllah. This life is transient and takes only a few hours in comparison to life in the Hereafter. For Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala reminds us in Surah Yunus Verse 45:
And on the Day when He will gather them, [it will be] as if they had remained [in the world] but an hour of the day, [and] they will know each other. Those will have lost who denied the meeting with Allah and were not guided.
Beauty doesn’t last forever, what lasts forever is good character and obedience to Allah ta’ala – for if we train our limbs now to obey Him, it will be much easier for us when we grow older.
TRULY INSPIRING! :)
source: HERE
credits to FH for tweeting me this :)
Friday, July 8, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Inspiration [6]: Optimistic
Just wanna share something that hopefully might inspire any of you reading this.
I'll just copy paste the write up:
GO TO HER PAGE -----> Kelik!
Despite the fact that she might be "different" from what people perceive as "normal", she managed to grow up healthy, optimistic and excel in life, and she's only 22!
Someone like her and other inspiring people GMH :D
Heads up guys!
Be grateful, Alhamdulillah
******************************************************************************
[[[[[THIS]]]]]] "Ehlam ma'aya ya sodiqi", beautiful ~
toddles~
salam~~
I'll just copy paste the write up:
This is Lizzie Velásquez. She’s a 22 year old, motivational speaker. She was born with a very rare syndrome that only 3 people in the world have. No name is given for the syndrome. She has been bullied throughout her life for all the wrong reasons. Nobody should be judged. She’s beautiful. She doesn’t have any eating disorder, she actually has perfect health. She has NEVER weighed more then 62 pounds in her entire life, but seems to enjoy every minute of being herself. She would never change herself if the world depended on it.
GO TO HER PAGE -----> Kelik!
Despite the fact that she might be "different" from what people perceive as "normal", she managed to grow up healthy, optimistic and excel in life, and she's only 22!
Someone like her and other inspiring people GMH :D
Heads up guys!
Be grateful, Alhamdulillah
******************************************************************************
[[[[[THIS]]]]]] "Ehlam ma'aya ya sodiqi", beautiful ~
toddles~
salam~~
Friday, April 8, 2011
Tell Me Why
In my dream children sing a song of love for every boy and girl
The sky is blue and fields are green and laughter is the language of the world
Then I wake and all I see is a world full of people in need
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why?
Everyday I ask myself what will I have to do to be a man?
Do I have to stand and fight to prove to everybody who I am?
Is that what my life is for to waste in a world full of war?
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why?
(children) tell me why? (declan) tell me why?
(children) tell me why? (declan) tell me why?
(together) just tell me why, why, why?
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why (why,why,does the tiger run)
Tell me why (why why do we shoot the gun)
Tell me why (why,why do we never learn)
Can someone tell us why we let the forest burn?
(why,why do we say we care)
Tell me why (why,why do we stand and stare)
Tell me why (why,why do the dolphins cry)
Can some one tell us why we let the ocean die ?
(why,why if we're all the same)
tell me why (why,why do we pass the blame)
tell me why (why,why does it never end)
can some one tell us why we cannot just be friends?
LISTEN
The sky is blue and fields are green and laughter is the language of the world
Then I wake and all I see is a world full of people in need
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why?
Everyday I ask myself what will I have to do to be a man?
Do I have to stand and fight to prove to everybody who I am?
Is that what my life is for to waste in a world full of war?
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why?
(children) tell me why? (declan) tell me why?
(children) tell me why? (declan) tell me why?
(together) just tell me why, why, why?
Tell me why (why) does it have to be like this?
Tell me why (why) is there something I have missed?
Tell me why (why) cos I don't understand.
When so many need somebody we don't give a helping hand.
Tell me why (why,why,does the tiger run)
Tell me why (why why do we shoot the gun)
Tell me why (why,why do we never learn)
Can someone tell us why we let the forest burn?
(why,why do we say we care)
Tell me why (why,why do we stand and stare)
Tell me why (why,why do the dolphins cry)
Can some one tell us why we let the ocean die ?
(why,why if we're all the same)
tell me why (why,why do we pass the blame)
tell me why (why,why does it never end)
can some one tell us why we cannot just be friends?
LISTEN
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Moon: Where art thou?
 |
| tumblr's |
Last night, I happened to notice how bright the sky was outside...They say due to the once every 20years full moon phenomena where we could actually view it up close. Well, I didn't went out so I could not view the moon.
So,I made a status that goes: "SubhanAllah,the sky is so bright tonight" and from a few comments, we managed to collectively make out a short poem that goes like this [totally random I must say]:
The sky is so bright tonight
and the air is cold and breezy
But wait,
where is the moon?
Oh,it is shield behind the clouds,
...SubhanAllah,how great the Creator is...
and the air is cold and breezy
But wait,
where is the moon?
Oh,it is shield behind the clouds,
...SubhanAllah,how great the Creator is...
Cool,right?
It goes even better. My sweet and creative with rich vocabs happened to make a beatiful poem like in seconds [gempah seyh!]
Here,
I could hear the sounds and the voiceless zephyr wind chiming the hall of the blue sky...
In the shelter beyond my restless sweet homey.
Makes me wonder,
ponder to lift up myself aside from my busy day against His greatness in this world.
SubhanAllah, said my dearest friend Wanek, the sky is so bright tonight,
as I replied..."and the air is cold and breezy"
No air-conditioner and fan could detour His power over everything.
When the rain meet the night and when the sky meet the peak of the day,
it would be the jealousy of the world closest stage - the sun.
Open it wings unto the wide jaunty happiness for those who value this beautiful sign of Lord of the sky.
Brighter than the moon, indeed the sky is so bright tonight.
source: ainn-in-a-million.blogspot.com
Matters like this, really do boost up the mood to be a teeeny weeeeny bitsy....ermmm...poetic? Well, obviously I don't have that talent per say,LOL
Allahu Akbar for His beautiful creations!
toddles~
salam~~
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Inspiration [5]: Dream Mothers
A very "powerful" and inspiring poem by Wani Ardy~
You are a Dream Mother.
If you could not conceive a child,
if you will never know how it feels like to have another heart beating inside you for many months,
you are a Dream Mother.
If your body could not afford to cradle another soul,
if you will never experience the priceless agony of giving birth to a little human,
never be a biological mother, never have a daughter of your flesh and blood, never have a son who resembles your husband,
for whatever reason-
you are a Dream Mother.
Your presence is an essence;
you are the savior of orphans.
Without you, Dream Mothers, many orphans would have no special home.
Imagine a world where every single woman could conceive, could get pregnant, could have a child of her own,
yet deaths and abandonment occur as per usual…
What would become of orphans?
Dream Mothers, people such as you must live.
Biological Mothers and Dream Mothers need to coexist.
You balance the earth and its diverse occupants, Dream Mothers.
No one can deny your capacity to love and care for another.
No one can take away your right to dream of your baby’s name,
or what lullaby you would sing when that tiny foot is kicking, or when that pebble eyes are crying,
or how you would look like in the mirror with your blossoming belly, while your nausea is at its peak.
Dear Dream Mother,
You think you’re inadequate but God has made you a rescuer.
You think you’re less of a woman but God has made you an important reminder.
Biological Mothers ponder upon you and they appreciate what they have even better.
God is Just. God is Fair.
Biological Mothers have their pain and gain; so do you.
Only yours are more of a secret.
To be born a Dream Mother, is not a lost.
To be born a Dream Mother means that you are much stronger than you will ever know.
It means that your pain and gain are there, but they may not show.
Dear Dream Mothers,
You are no less significant.
You are here for a cause.
These children are the earth,
Biological Mothers are the sun,
and you-
you are the moon.
Dear Dream Mothers,
you are the chosen ones.
Wani Ardy
Rozelle, Sydney
source: here [ you can listen to its background song ]
You are a Dream Mother.
If you could not conceive a child,
if you will never know how it feels like to have another heart beating inside you for many months,
you are a Dream Mother.
If your body could not afford to cradle another soul,
if you will never experience the priceless agony of giving birth to a little human,
never be a biological mother, never have a daughter of your flesh and blood, never have a son who resembles your husband,
for whatever reason-
you are a Dream Mother.
Your presence is an essence;
you are the savior of orphans.
Without you, Dream Mothers, many orphans would have no special home.
Imagine a world where every single woman could conceive, could get pregnant, could have a child of her own,
yet deaths and abandonment occur as per usual…
What would become of orphans?
Dream Mothers, people such as you must live.
Biological Mothers and Dream Mothers need to coexist.
You balance the earth and its diverse occupants, Dream Mothers.
No one can deny your capacity to love and care for another.
No one can take away your right to dream of your baby’s name,
or what lullaby you would sing when that tiny foot is kicking, or when that pebble eyes are crying,
or how you would look like in the mirror with your blossoming belly, while your nausea is at its peak.
Dear Dream Mother,
You think you’re inadequate but God has made you a rescuer.
You think you’re less of a woman but God has made you an important reminder.
Biological Mothers ponder upon you and they appreciate what they have even better.
God is Just. God is Fair.
Biological Mothers have their pain and gain; so do you.
Only yours are more of a secret.
To be born a Dream Mother, is not a lost.
To be born a Dream Mother means that you are much stronger than you will ever know.
It means that your pain and gain are there, but they may not show.
Dear Dream Mothers,
You are no less significant.
You are here for a cause.
These children are the earth,
Biological Mothers are the sun,
and you-
you are the moon.
Dear Dream Mothers,
you are the chosen ones.
Wani Ardy
Rozelle, Sydney
source: here [ you can listen to its background song ]
Friday, February 25, 2011
Inspiration [4]
This won my heart earlier:
“The six-year-old girl who wanted to leave love letters to her parents”
When 6-year-old Elena Desserich was diagnosed with brain cancer, she began hiding hundreds of little love notes around the house for her parents to find after she was gone. She was given 135 days to live. She lived 255 days, passing away in 2007. After her death, Elena’s parents, Brooke and Keith, found hundreds of notes from Elena hidden around the house — in between CD cases, between bookshelves, in dresser drawers, in backpacks. “It just felt like a little hug from her, like she was telling us she was looking over us”. Elena’s parents, Brooke and Keith Desserich, later published these notes in a book called Notes Left Behind to fund a non-profit organization The Cure Starts Now dedicated to fighting pediatric brain cancer.
source: tumblr [reblogs]
We miss people the most when they are not with us anymore T_T
May Allah bless the soul of them who had left us already,ameen
toddles~
salam~~
“The six-year-old girl who wanted to leave love letters to her parents”
When 6-year-old Elena Desserich was diagnosed with brain cancer, she began hiding hundreds of little love notes around the house for her parents to find after she was gone. She was given 135 days to live. She lived 255 days, passing away in 2007. After her death, Elena’s parents, Brooke and Keith, found hundreds of notes from Elena hidden around the house — in between CD cases, between bookshelves, in dresser drawers, in backpacks. “It just felt like a little hug from her, like she was telling us she was looking over us”. Elena’s parents, Brooke and Keith Desserich, later published these notes in a book called Notes Left Behind to fund a non-profit organization The Cure Starts Now dedicated to fighting pediatric brain cancer.
source: tumblr [reblogs]
We miss people the most when they are not with us anymore T_T
May Allah bless the soul of them who had left us already,ameen
toddles~
salam~~
Monday, February 14, 2011
Overwhelmed~
Out of no where I found this beautiful article:
HERE
Getting more and more unwell, syafakillah dear self~~
Alhamdulillah tomorrow's a holiday so I can rest a bit =)
toddles~
salam~~
HERE
Getting more and more unwell, syafakillah dear self~~
Alhamdulillah tomorrow's a holiday so I can rest a bit =)
toddles~
salam~~
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Victory for Egypt!
A MUST WATCH!!! -------------> Sout Al-Horeya<-------------------
Wallahi this has to be among the great news I've heard today!
Read : HERE!
Allahu Akbar!
Alhamdulillah!
A lot more efforts to be done but yeah, HM has stepped down....it brings a whole new set of looks to Egypt and all the surrounding Arabic countries....inshaAllah
So happppppyyy for them!! =)
Wallahi this has to be among the great news I've heard today!
Read : HERE!
Allahu Akbar!
Alhamdulillah!
A lot more efforts to be done but yeah, HM has stepped down....it brings a whole new set of looks to Egypt and all the surrounding Arabic countries....inshaAllah
So happppppyyy for them!! =)
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Inspire and be inspired!
 |
| pic courtesy from tuh-em-blur |
Inspire people and Be inspired.....keep the inspiration alive and see the sparks of life! ^^
You're not alive until you start living [quoted it from a movie that I do not remember] and since you are living, live well, meaningful and be grateful
Mixed emotions are natural....that's why you've gotta find inspirations from everywhere!
toddles~
salam~~
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
"I should be ashamed of myself"
why is that so?
Because of this :OMMI <------kelik
Listen to her utterances, all praises to Allah, no complaints, no regrets
"God Almighty sends me some sickness and then takes it away. God is with me..."
SubhanAllah! Allah bless you ya ommi!
May we all be a grateful person,Ameen Ya Rabb
toddles~
salam~~
Because of this :OMMI <------kelik
Listen to her utterances, all praises to Allah, no complaints, no regrets
"God Almighty sends me some sickness and then takes it away. God is with me..."
SubhanAllah! Allah bless you ya ommi!
May we all be a grateful person,Ameen Ya Rabb
toddles~
salam~~
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Inspiration [3]
A beautiful story that I just read, mashaAllah! A bit lengthy but I guarantee it's worth your precious time! :)
A Long and Winding Path: My Journey to Islam [owner of americanrevert]
In 1982, I was born into a lower-middle class, not particularly religious Kentucky family. I got most of my religious understanding from my God-fearing, Baptist grandmother who was a member of one of those churches where they only have lethargic organ-led hymns— no clapping hands, no sudden hallelujahs or praise Gods, only the occasional cough to break the silence during the sermon. It seemed joyless, a hassle for the congregation to dress up and make it out on Sundays. As important as my grandmother made church seem, I didn’t see that same enthusiasm on any other face. The confusion had already begun to settle in.
I went to Sunday school, read the Bible, even went to “Vacation Bible School” every summer during my childhood, but I never felt the Holy Spirit descend on me and guide me to eternal salvation through Jesus Christ. I prayed, begged, groveled, spent much of my younger years on my knees asking Jesus to come into my heart and save me from Hell; he never did. Every time I went to church someone asked if I was ready to be baptized, I never was. Christians tried to explain the feeling of having Jesus in their hearts, I just never felt it. A kid who knew he was going to Hell, I lived with dread until I was 12 years old, the year I lost faith in everything.
The summer between seventh and eighth grades, I had lost touch with the church and developed other interests and relationships. However, I still believed in God and had that invitation for Jesus to come into my heart, out floating in the air, somewhere between the heavens and the earth, and I was still very much waiting for his RSVP. And then something that I never dreamed would happen, happened. My uncle, who had recently evicted his step-son, was murdered. When he came home the next night and opened the door, his step-son was there waiting with a loaded shotgun. My uncle turned to run, got hit in the back at close range with the first shot, but he kept running. A block and a half down the road, he took another hit in the back. This one, I was told later, would most likely have killed him, but when he fell he kept going, as far and as fast as he could. His step-son caught up with him, put the barrel to the back of his head, let it linger there for awhile. Witnesses said my uncle continued to beg and plead for his life right up until he pulled the trigger and ended it.
I was devastated. My uncle was a good man and I just couldn’t fathom that a loving God/Jesus could ever let something like this happen to him. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it being “his time to go” or “God’s will.” My whole world had come unbalanced from the actions of one useless and heartless human being and I couldn’t cope with it. It was this lack of coping ability that eventually had me stealing alcohol from my parents, lying in my room at night, drunk out of my mind, and crying; I spent a lot of time pondering God and Jesus and everything that I knew about religion, Heaven and Hell, and made one last heartfelt (though drunken) attempt at a connection with my creator. It was not answered. I decided then: it wasn’t God that allowed my uncle to die, because there was no God; there was nothing.
My teens and early twenties were a blur. I spent a lot of my time messing up, never really completing anything. I wasted whatever money I made, drank my self stupid, toyed with drugs, stole, had a series of empty, emotionless relationships with girls; I was pretty much out of my head. Looking back I sometimes wonder how I ever even survived those years. By all accounts I should either be dead, maimed, or locked away in jail. Nothing was sacred to me, nothing holy. I made great fun out of saying horrible things about God and Jesus. My life had no purpose and I felt like I was just killing time until I eventually died or killed myself.
In 2005 I found out I was going to be a father— shocking, but not at all unexpected. I guess I just figured it would never happen to me. The girl I was with at the time and I had a very rocky, somewhat poisonous relationship. We both knew it was doomed to collapse from the beginning, we were just too dumb or too afraid to be alone. I decided if we were going to have this child, it would be a good idea if we got married. I really wanted to, and I tried to make it right, but it never was. We had our moments of happiness, but they were always short lived. September 5, 2005, my son, Jackson, was born, and although I now had a reason to get my life together, I didn’t. My relationship with my ex-wife never improved; it actually got worse. A downward spiral, it slowly deteriorated until we were both doing horrible things, hurting each other. But for some reason I wouldn’t give in. I’d hang on no matter how much it hurt, because I thought I was doing the right thing for my son. Finally, it all came to a head and I made an attempt to take my own life.
(I didn’t think much of it then, I guess I thought it was just a coincidence, but after taking a couple thousand milligrams of Zoloft and Prozac I decided to give one random friend a chance to save my life. In arrogance I chose the one friend I knew would be of no help. The one friend who would not answer the phone, or be of any help at all, because he lived a few states away. But he did answer the phone, and he was in town. Alhamdulillah!)
I spent about two weeks in a mental hospital. When I was discharged, I didn’t want to go home, but in the end I went back to the poisonous relationship, a desperate last attempt to make something my heart said could never be right, right. It didn’t work. I enrolled in college that fall, and we finally separated for good before the spring semester started. It wouldn’t be the last time I would have to deal with her of course, because it was only a few months later, after I had moved to Arkansas, that she filed a restraining order against me, ruling I was to stay 1500 feet from her and my son, having no contact with either of them. To make a long story short, I didn’t do what I was supposed to do, and in my youthful arrogance, or ignorance,
I just ended getting myself into more trouble.
Things seemed to be getting a lot better with my life. I had moved to Arkansas after meeting the girl that would eventually become my wife, I had a job, we had shelter, we had food, and we had each other. Times were hard, but we always managed somehow to make it through. We loved each other, and that was all we needed. After Christmas of 2008, it all finally caught up with me. Even though I had begun paying my child support on a regular basis and had started making some ground paying up on the past balance, they came for me. I ended up spending two weeks in the county jail awaiting transport back to Kentucky to face the judge for my felony non-support charge.
It was during that long trip back to Kentucky that things started to make sense to me. The extradition process for a prisoner is not like they make it seem in the movies. I was placed in a cramped van, shackled from head to toe and forced to endure these marathon drives through cities and states nowhere near my actual destination. The easiest route between Arkansas and Kentucky is obviously through Tennessee.
However, we went through Oklahoma, Missouri, Nebraska, South Dakota, Kansas, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio and then Kentucky; picking up a dropping off prisoners all along the way. It took four days, with a 24 hour layover in Omaha, Nebraska so the drivers could rest.
I was away from my wife; I didn’t know whether or not I was going to end up in jail, or prison. All those years of burning the candle at both ends, running like I had no responsibilities; it all finally caught up to me.
All the questions I’d avoided, all the memories I’d suppressed; everything hit me at once, and I prayed. I humbled myself, begged a God that I wasn’t even sure if I believed in to help me, to guide me, to show me out of this mess that I had gotten myself into. And it hit me— It wasn’t like God speaking to me, or the highly spoken of “Jesus coming into my heart,” or anything like that. It was a calming feeling, like a friend placing a hand on your shoulder when you’re down, telling you it’ll be okay; the feeling I’d been longing for since I was a child. But I knew then that I had a responsibility: now that I believed, I had to find God again, find what I believed and how to practice it.
My father helped me get a lawyer and paid my remaining child support, and the judge reduced the charges to a misdemeanor. I was free, and I went back to the business of living, and now the new business of finding God. When I was younger I had read the Bible, and found a lot of issues with it, but I figured with the wisdom of a few years, and possibly the guidance of God, I would be able to understand it and put it into practice. I was wrong. It was still the contradictory, confusing mess it had always been; and the trinity? I thought maybe I was simple-minded for not being able to wrap my mind around it. I spent a lot of hours reading, thinking, trying to make sense of it all. But I couldn’t. All I knew for sure was that I believed in God with all my heart, and I knew that He had always been there; it was I who had denied him, not the other way around.
I eventually gave up altogether on the Bible. It didn’t make sense to me, and no one could offer a good explanation, so I knew that it wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be the word of God if the average everyday guy couldn’t understand it. Life carried on. One day my wife mentioned something about traveling abroad, maybe teaching English in Yemen. Always down for an adventure, I was all for it. Whereas she had spent some time in the Middle East as a child, I had never even been out of the country. What I did know was that there were a lot of Muslims in the Middle East, and I would have to learn to understand their culture to get by over there. I figured the best way to learn about Muslims and their culture would be to read the Qur’an, so I went out and bought a Yusuf Ali translation.
I remember cracking open that green and gold, ornate cover, and feeling I was about to discover something wonderful— I did. By the time I finished Surah Al-Fatiha, I knew I was Muslim. The simplicity of it astounded me. It didn’t beat around the bush and meant exactly what it said. It was beautiful to me. I continued, learning everything this book was teaching was everything that I had already believed. The problems that I had with Christianity were solved with Islam. I spent the next few weeks keeping it to myself, curious about the reaction I would get from my wife if I just suddenly said I want to be Muslim. But I kept researching Islam and falling more and more in love with it every day, and eventually it did come up. We discussed it at length and both came to the consensus that we would seek out the closest mosque and do whatever it was we had to do to become Muslims. I got online, found the e-mail for the Islamic center in our area, and asked them if it would be alright if we came out to visit and talk about taking our shahadah.
We went in on a Thursday and spoke with the Imam and two very nice brothers. What really struck me was how they wanted to ascertain that I understood what I was getting into, that I understood what Islam was, that it was a way of life, not just a religion. The thing about Christians is they’ll take you in and baptize you before you can blink, whether you know what Christianity is or not. These brothers wanted to make absolutely sure we had no concerns or doubts about it and didn’t pressure us, didn’t rush us to make a final decision. They listened to our questions and answered them as best as they could. It was such a refreshing change from everything I had ever known about religion. If I wasn’t sure before, I was absolutely sure at that moment; I was Muslim.
The brothers let me join in on Maghrib prayer, even though I was lost. Afterwards I said the words that changed my life and made me who I am today. “Ashadu an la ilaha illa’llah, Ashadu anna Muhammadan Rasulu’llah.” Alhamdulillah! With that oft repeated phrase I began to make the necessary changes in my life. I quit drinking alcohol, removed pork from my diet, stopped cussing, and although it has taken me almost a year, I quit smoking. I started devoting my time to prayer and the study of Islam. I have come a long way, but I know that there is always a chance for me to do better, to grow. I thank Allah each and every day for guiding me out of the darkness and in to the light of Islam, into submission to the one and only God, into a better way of life.
Looking back, I know that I knew nothing. The events in my life that I blamed God for, I can only thank him for now. Remove one little event from that chain, and I may not have come to Islam. Allah has a plan for each and every one of us, and we have no chance of ever comprehending the plans of Allah; He knows what we know not, and He guides who He wills. The second that I humbled myself before Him and prayed sincerely for His guidance, He guided me. SubhanAllah! It was a long journey from Baptist upbringing, to the loss of faith, and to Allah’s guidance finally setting me on the straight path. Allahu Akbar!
Beautiful ~
toddles~
salam~~
A Long and Winding Path: My Journey to Islam [owner of americanrevert]
In 1982, I was born into a lower-middle class, not particularly religious Kentucky family. I got most of my religious understanding from my God-fearing, Baptist grandmother who was a member of one of those churches where they only have lethargic organ-led hymns— no clapping hands, no sudden hallelujahs or praise Gods, only the occasional cough to break the silence during the sermon. It seemed joyless, a hassle for the congregation to dress up and make it out on Sundays. As important as my grandmother made church seem, I didn’t see that same enthusiasm on any other face. The confusion had already begun to settle in.
I went to Sunday school, read the Bible, even went to “Vacation Bible School” every summer during my childhood, but I never felt the Holy Spirit descend on me and guide me to eternal salvation through Jesus Christ. I prayed, begged, groveled, spent much of my younger years on my knees asking Jesus to come into my heart and save me from Hell; he never did. Every time I went to church someone asked if I was ready to be baptized, I never was. Christians tried to explain the feeling of having Jesus in their hearts, I just never felt it. A kid who knew he was going to Hell, I lived with dread until I was 12 years old, the year I lost faith in everything.
The summer between seventh and eighth grades, I had lost touch with the church and developed other interests and relationships. However, I still believed in God and had that invitation for Jesus to come into my heart, out floating in the air, somewhere between the heavens and the earth, and I was still very much waiting for his RSVP. And then something that I never dreamed would happen, happened. My uncle, who had recently evicted his step-son, was murdered. When he came home the next night and opened the door, his step-son was there waiting with a loaded shotgun. My uncle turned to run, got hit in the back at close range with the first shot, but he kept running. A block and a half down the road, he took another hit in the back. This one, I was told later, would most likely have killed him, but when he fell he kept going, as far and as fast as he could. His step-son caught up with him, put the barrel to the back of his head, let it linger there for awhile. Witnesses said my uncle continued to beg and plead for his life right up until he pulled the trigger and ended it.
I was devastated. My uncle was a good man and I just couldn’t fathom that a loving God/Jesus could ever let something like this happen to him. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it being “his time to go” or “God’s will.” My whole world had come unbalanced from the actions of one useless and heartless human being and I couldn’t cope with it. It was this lack of coping ability that eventually had me stealing alcohol from my parents, lying in my room at night, drunk out of my mind, and crying; I spent a lot of time pondering God and Jesus and everything that I knew about religion, Heaven and Hell, and made one last heartfelt (though drunken) attempt at a connection with my creator. It was not answered. I decided then: it wasn’t God that allowed my uncle to die, because there was no God; there was nothing.
My teens and early twenties were a blur. I spent a lot of my time messing up, never really completing anything. I wasted whatever money I made, drank my self stupid, toyed with drugs, stole, had a series of empty, emotionless relationships with girls; I was pretty much out of my head. Looking back I sometimes wonder how I ever even survived those years. By all accounts I should either be dead, maimed, or locked away in jail. Nothing was sacred to me, nothing holy. I made great fun out of saying horrible things about God and Jesus. My life had no purpose and I felt like I was just killing time until I eventually died or killed myself.
In 2005 I found out I was going to be a father— shocking, but not at all unexpected. I guess I just figured it would never happen to me. The girl I was with at the time and I had a very rocky, somewhat poisonous relationship. We both knew it was doomed to collapse from the beginning, we were just too dumb or too afraid to be alone. I decided if we were going to have this child, it would be a good idea if we got married. I really wanted to, and I tried to make it right, but it never was. We had our moments of happiness, but they were always short lived. September 5, 2005, my son, Jackson, was born, and although I now had a reason to get my life together, I didn’t. My relationship with my ex-wife never improved; it actually got worse. A downward spiral, it slowly deteriorated until we were both doing horrible things, hurting each other. But for some reason I wouldn’t give in. I’d hang on no matter how much it hurt, because I thought I was doing the right thing for my son. Finally, it all came to a head and I made an attempt to take my own life.
(I didn’t think much of it then, I guess I thought it was just a coincidence, but after taking a couple thousand milligrams of Zoloft and Prozac I decided to give one random friend a chance to save my life. In arrogance I chose the one friend I knew would be of no help. The one friend who would not answer the phone, or be of any help at all, because he lived a few states away. But he did answer the phone, and he was in town. Alhamdulillah!)
I spent about two weeks in a mental hospital. When I was discharged, I didn’t want to go home, but in the end I went back to the poisonous relationship, a desperate last attempt to make something my heart said could never be right, right. It didn’t work. I enrolled in college that fall, and we finally separated for good before the spring semester started. It wouldn’t be the last time I would have to deal with her of course, because it was only a few months later, after I had moved to Arkansas, that she filed a restraining order against me, ruling I was to stay 1500 feet from her and my son, having no contact with either of them. To make a long story short, I didn’t do what I was supposed to do, and in my youthful arrogance, or ignorance,
I just ended getting myself into more trouble.
Things seemed to be getting a lot better with my life. I had moved to Arkansas after meeting the girl that would eventually become my wife, I had a job, we had shelter, we had food, and we had each other. Times were hard, but we always managed somehow to make it through. We loved each other, and that was all we needed. After Christmas of 2008, it all finally caught up with me. Even though I had begun paying my child support on a regular basis and had started making some ground paying up on the past balance, they came for me. I ended up spending two weeks in the county jail awaiting transport back to Kentucky to face the judge for my felony non-support charge.
It was during that long trip back to Kentucky that things started to make sense to me. The extradition process for a prisoner is not like they make it seem in the movies. I was placed in a cramped van, shackled from head to toe and forced to endure these marathon drives through cities and states nowhere near my actual destination. The easiest route between Arkansas and Kentucky is obviously through Tennessee.
However, we went through Oklahoma, Missouri, Nebraska, South Dakota, Kansas, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio and then Kentucky; picking up a dropping off prisoners all along the way. It took four days, with a 24 hour layover in Omaha, Nebraska so the drivers could rest.
I was away from my wife; I didn’t know whether or not I was going to end up in jail, or prison. All those years of burning the candle at both ends, running like I had no responsibilities; it all finally caught up to me.
All the questions I’d avoided, all the memories I’d suppressed; everything hit me at once, and I prayed. I humbled myself, begged a God that I wasn’t even sure if I believed in to help me, to guide me, to show me out of this mess that I had gotten myself into. And it hit me— It wasn’t like God speaking to me, or the highly spoken of “Jesus coming into my heart,” or anything like that. It was a calming feeling, like a friend placing a hand on your shoulder when you’re down, telling you it’ll be okay; the feeling I’d been longing for since I was a child. But I knew then that I had a responsibility: now that I believed, I had to find God again, find what I believed and how to practice it.
My father helped me get a lawyer and paid my remaining child support, and the judge reduced the charges to a misdemeanor. I was free, and I went back to the business of living, and now the new business of finding God. When I was younger I had read the Bible, and found a lot of issues with it, but I figured with the wisdom of a few years, and possibly the guidance of God, I would be able to understand it and put it into practice. I was wrong. It was still the contradictory, confusing mess it had always been; and the trinity? I thought maybe I was simple-minded for not being able to wrap my mind around it. I spent a lot of hours reading, thinking, trying to make sense of it all. But I couldn’t. All I knew for sure was that I believed in God with all my heart, and I knew that He had always been there; it was I who had denied him, not the other way around.
I eventually gave up altogether on the Bible. It didn’t make sense to me, and no one could offer a good explanation, so I knew that it wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be the word of God if the average everyday guy couldn’t understand it. Life carried on. One day my wife mentioned something about traveling abroad, maybe teaching English in Yemen. Always down for an adventure, I was all for it. Whereas she had spent some time in the Middle East as a child, I had never even been out of the country. What I did know was that there were a lot of Muslims in the Middle East, and I would have to learn to understand their culture to get by over there. I figured the best way to learn about Muslims and their culture would be to read the Qur’an, so I went out and bought a Yusuf Ali translation.
I remember cracking open that green and gold, ornate cover, and feeling I was about to discover something wonderful— I did. By the time I finished Surah Al-Fatiha, I knew I was Muslim. The simplicity of it astounded me. It didn’t beat around the bush and meant exactly what it said. It was beautiful to me. I continued, learning everything this book was teaching was everything that I had already believed. The problems that I had with Christianity were solved with Islam. I spent the next few weeks keeping it to myself, curious about the reaction I would get from my wife if I just suddenly said I want to be Muslim. But I kept researching Islam and falling more and more in love with it every day, and eventually it did come up. We discussed it at length and both came to the consensus that we would seek out the closest mosque and do whatever it was we had to do to become Muslims. I got online, found the e-mail for the Islamic center in our area, and asked them if it would be alright if we came out to visit and talk about taking our shahadah.
We went in on a Thursday and spoke with the Imam and two very nice brothers. What really struck me was how they wanted to ascertain that I understood what I was getting into, that I understood what Islam was, that it was a way of life, not just a religion. The thing about Christians is they’ll take you in and baptize you before you can blink, whether you know what Christianity is or not. These brothers wanted to make absolutely sure we had no concerns or doubts about it and didn’t pressure us, didn’t rush us to make a final decision. They listened to our questions and answered them as best as they could. It was such a refreshing change from everything I had ever known about religion. If I wasn’t sure before, I was absolutely sure at that moment; I was Muslim.
The brothers let me join in on Maghrib prayer, even though I was lost. Afterwards I said the words that changed my life and made me who I am today. “Ashadu an la ilaha illa’llah, Ashadu anna Muhammadan Rasulu’llah.” Alhamdulillah! With that oft repeated phrase I began to make the necessary changes in my life. I quit drinking alcohol, removed pork from my diet, stopped cussing, and although it has taken me almost a year, I quit smoking. I started devoting my time to prayer and the study of Islam. I have come a long way, but I know that there is always a chance for me to do better, to grow. I thank Allah each and every day for guiding me out of the darkness and in to the light of Islam, into submission to the one and only God, into a better way of life.
Looking back, I know that I knew nothing. The events in my life that I blamed God for, I can only thank him for now. Remove one little event from that chain, and I may not have come to Islam. Allah has a plan for each and every one of us, and we have no chance of ever comprehending the plans of Allah; He knows what we know not, and He guides who He wills. The second that I humbled myself before Him and prayed sincerely for His guidance, He guided me. SubhanAllah! It was a long journey from Baptist upbringing, to the loss of faith, and to Allah’s guidance finally setting me on the straight path. Allahu Akbar!
Beautiful ~
toddles~
salam~~
Friday, January 28, 2011
On the other side of the world
If you have been following the world news, you might know what's happening in the Middle East. The latest update would be what's happening now in Egypt. I saw some trending in twitter and tumblr posts about the situation.
You can read it : HERE, HERE
No wonder my superiors were a bit quiet throughout this week. I don't want to jump any further into this matter but I do hope that everything will turn out well inshaAllah. Heard that there will be a BIG riot/demo after Jumaah Prayer [their time] today. UPDATED: I just got info from my colleague that my superiors can't work today. Maybe due to Internet disconnection and the riot...Hope everything is fine over there
On another side, I just saw this touching video. Very rare for me to post such thing but I just can't help not sharing it with others. I think this is so beautiful, in every possible way ^^
T_T <----this [someone from far awayyy shed tears...hoho]
toddles~
salam~~
You can read it : HERE, HERE
No wonder my superiors were a bit quiet throughout this week. I don't want to jump any further into this matter but I do hope that everything will turn out well inshaAllah. Heard that there will be a BIG riot/demo after Jumaah Prayer [their time] today. UPDATED: I just got info from my colleague that my superiors can't work today. Maybe due to Internet disconnection and the riot...Hope everything is fine over there
On another side, I just saw this touching video. Very rare for me to post such thing but I just can't help not sharing it with others. I think this is so beautiful, in every possible way ^^
T_T <----this [someone from far awayyy shed tears...hoho]
toddles~
salam~~
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Zindagi ek safar
Bismillahirrahmanirrahim,
I just read late Mas Afzal's blog where his mom is now writing in it and I just couldn't help myself from not being inspired again and again. MashaAllah, such a soul. The picture where he performed his solah despite his condition was really awe inspiring.
Frankly speaking, I am so envious of him. He's physically no longer in this world but what he left behind seems to be his ongoing 'profit'. He has touched so many hearts, be it the people whom personally knew him or the ones who saw his video and read his writings [I'm one of the thousands in this category]
So I ask myself; If my time came, how would I be remembered? what would I be remembered for? will I be remembered?
Abu Qataadah rahimahullaah reported that Allaah's Messenger sallallaahu 'alayhi wa sallam said: "The best that a man can leave behind after his death are three things: a righteous child who makes du'aa for him, an ongoing sadaqah whose rewards continue to reach him, and a knowledge that continues to be implemented after him." (Ibn Maajah, and others. Verified to be sahih by al-Mundhiri and al-Albaanee).
Three. Only three will become our 'ongoing profit' in the hereafter. So which one will become my 'profit'? let's ask ourselves that question T_T
For a fact, I want to [and I should] live my life with a meaningful purpose. To continue being inspired and share a little bit of the inspirations with my everyone I know so we can benefit from the beautiful inspirations together.
Life in this world is not forever but we tend to act contradict to that fact,right? That's why we need to be reminded from time to time. We need to remind ourselves that life is short and there's 'somewhere' that we'll go after this and that 'somewhere' is an eternal resting place. Surely we want to have the best-est eternal resting place? :)
"Every soul will taste death. Then to Us will you be returned." (Al-Ankabut:57)
Allah.....Our sole creator. From Him we came and unto Him shall we return. So, it is unto Him we should seek help, forgiveness and to guide us to the right path.
Alas, let's make the best out of our life shall we? :)
EAR CANDY CATCHES TO THE SOUL :) <--kelik lah
Wallahu 'alam.
toddles~
salam~~
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