Ramadan Musings

It's interesting how, as a parent, I find myself realizing in real time what many ahadith mean and how they play out in life.

For example, the hadith of someone who teaches another person good, and that person goes on to teach others, and the accumulation of good deeds.

Tonight, after I finished taraweeh with 9yo, I hugged her, told her how proud I was of her for praying, and taught her the same hadith.

During every Ramadan of my growing up, my father would constantly recite and emphasize the hadith "Man saama/ man qaama Ramadanan emaanan wahtisaaban, ghufira lahu maa taqaddama min thambih."

Every Ramadan since then, I would hear his voice in my memory, and try a little harder to have emaan and ihtisaab in my fasting and my prayers.

I hope that when she grows older, she too hears my voice in her memory, and that every Ramadan, she recites this hadith with love for Allah, and tries that much harder to have emaan and ihtisaab in her fasting and prayers.

...

In these last 10 nights, wherein we are constantly begging Allah for His 'Afw, I find myself struggling with my own ability to forgive. I rarely take deep personal offence to things said or done to me, but when it comes to my family and family honour, it is difficult to let go.

With a family that has been involved in da'wah since I was born, it can be hard to distinguish between gheerah for the Deen and da'wah itself, and gheerah for one's family honour - and while both are necessary, sometimes one must learn to swallow repeated wounds to the latter and trust in Allah to take care of it.

I am, admittedly, rather bitter and cynical in many ways, and especially towards those who have attacked my family repeatedly. I pray that Allah grants me the wisdom to forgive in a manner that is appropriate, while never abandoning family honour.

The other great struggle with forgiveness is with regards to my past abuser. This is the most painful thing to grapple with - to still be experiencing and dealing with the wounds dealt to me, to asking myself whether my right to Divine Justice by praying against them will result in me losing Allah's 'Afw at a time when I need it most.

I am painfully aware of the ways in which I have transgressed, deeply at times, and I know that I should be doing everything I can to earn my Lord's forgiveness. Yet I cannot find it in myself to forgive the person who transgressed against me, in so many ways and so deeply. What does that make me, then? I really don't know. I know that my Lord's 'Afw is limitless; I know that mine is not.

...

I've always found that every Ramadan has a unique theme for me. This year, I've noticed a deeper awareness of the seriousness of parenting; an increased love and appreciation for my family and tradition; and the painful process of facing both one's greatest faults & greatest traumas.

As my daughter grows older and developing her love for Allah and desire to obey Him requires more than just bedtime stories; as my family heals from past rifts; as I seek to move forward from both within and without...

I suspect that Allah expects more from me now than ever before. I know that I have stumbled and failed before - often - I know that I have been blessed with more chances at redemption & change than I likely deserve. Recognizing this is both a blessing and a grave responsibility.

Allahumma innaka 'Afuwwun, tuhibb al-Afw, fa'fu'anni.

Torment, Tears, Tawbah

Tawbah is... hard. We talk about it a lot, especially in Ramadan, but the actual act of it? It's painful as hell. It's supposed to be. 

Tawbah - repentance - is more than some vague guilt, or an absent minded "dear God, please forgive me." It is a deeply uncomfortable, painful journey of the abyss of one's own nafs; staring hard at the parts of ourselves that are ugliest, that we usually do our best to hide from ourselves and others.

Tawbah is to feel that sucker-punch of humiliation and guilt as we recall our sins: not just the mildly awkward ones, like a petty fib or mild infraction, but the genuinely terrible parts of ourselves... ugly lies, vicious jealousy, violations against others' rights, abuse.

Some of us may be actual criminals - others of us may seem presentable on the outside, even religious, maybe even spiritual... and yet have violated others in terrible ways. Abuse comes in so many forms, and some of us are perpetrators, not just victims.

Facing that reality can be a gruesome process. 

It is a necessary process. Token words, glib recitation of spiritual formulae, those do not constitute tawbah in its entirety. 

Rather, it is a matter of owning up to our violations, experiencing genuine emotion over them - true humiliation, true regret - and striving not to be that person ever again. 

Much as we hate to admit it, we have our own fair share of red flags that we create and wave, even before we get into the nasty business of committing the worst of our sins. Tawbah isn't just feeling bad for those Big Sins - it's to recognize what led us to them to begin with.

It requires us to acknowledge our own flaws of character, of the ease with which we fall into certain behaviours, the way we justify the pursuit of our desires, the blindness we have to the worst parts of ourselves.

Tawbah is to sit down and face all of it - and then to beg Allah, over and over, not just to forgive us and erase those specific actions, but to change us for the better. 

Sincere tawbah isn't a one-and-done deal, either. Truly sincere repentance is to consistently seek forgiveness, to embark on that inner journey over and over again.