Trials and Triumphs: Refining faith

Many of you may know, but some may not: On November 11, 2011 my ex-husband kidnapped my two small children as he exited his life in the United States. He returned to Tunisia broken from failed attempts to make a life in the U.S., and in a last effort to stick it to me, took my babies with him.  Due to laws and protocols I dislike to understand, the journey to bring them home is longer than any mother would like.  But this isn’t a blog about international relations. For more information, see www.facebook.com/returnushome. 

This is a blog about faith.

Webster’s defines faith as: belief that is not based on proof. 

I heard once that there is a refining purpose of trials.  That refining purpose is to test one’s ability to overcome; to stretch oneself to increase reliance on what is unseen.  Faith.  This is not to say that there are not times where we weep in sorrow for what is, or question our sanity for believing in what has yet to occur.  It is to say, though, that in the end, faith is believing God has determined our victories at the start of every adversity and choosing to believe that, no matter what happens from day to day.  It is up to us to believe in the outcome, and proceed toward that end.

God places trials on our path for various reasons.  Sometimes it’s to test us, and sometimes it’s to challenge those around us.  One must be certain that no thing that exists is by coincidence.  What God sets forth for man, he sets forth in full.  There is no accident in his plan.  But there are absolutely mistakes in our meandering through the journey.  But how can we change, grow, or affect the lives of others if we do not walk the trail, stumble, and then get back up?

Sometimes it may seem unfair the number of adversities we must go through, or the kind may seem too harsh.  But if one firmly believes that God does not burden a person with that which he is unable to handle, then one has the assurance that whatever comes to him, God has made the way.  The challenge of faith, of course, is not simply in having it, but in exercising it.  And one thing that must also be present is patience.  An insightful man explained to me that we can be assured of a victory in faith, but we must also respect that victories come in God’s time. …God’s time…phew…that’s a hard one…

While I wish beyond belief that I was not being tried in this way, I have to pause and thank God in so many ways.  Sounds weird? Bear with me through a quick story, and maybe it’ll make more sense:

Last month I had to run from court to court to get certain things in place.  While at the restroom sink one afternoon, I heard a woman screaming in the corridor.  Clearly the woman was mad – possibly in all senses of the word.  I was happy to continue applying lipstick until I was sure she was gone. 

Moments later a young lady entered the rest room.  She stood at the sink quietly for a few seconds, caught my eye in the mirror, and then started yelling.  Oh yeah, it was her!  What to do? Do I excuse myself kindly and quickly? I didn’t know.  So, I froze…and I stared back at her in the mirror as she yelled. 

Suddenly I stopped tuning in to my own thoughts and started tuning in to her words.  She was hurting.  She was angry…at a man.  From what I could gather; she had offered a service for money, and then was put in jail, and her money was taken away.  That’s all I cared to get. 

I could not judge her, could not blame her…I could only hear the words of a woman who was hurting.  So I turned to her, looked her in her eyes, and whispered, “it’ll be okay”.  And I meant it. Why? I don’t know. Why a whisper? I don’t know.  I know it calmed her down.  I half suspect she assumed my hijab indicated I was a nun instead of a Muslim, but she clearly identified me as a woman who could pray for her.  So she asked me to pray for her.  

She gave me her name and then asked me what to do. I told her to leave.  Whatever it was, leave.  She thought about it, asked me to pray again, and then asked for a hug.  I gave her one.  A big one.  And I reassured her that she had the power to control her life.  Then I left. 

In the midst of what I was going through - anxiety, missing my babies, wondering if the courts would help - I was thankful for nothing else than that I was NOT in that woman’s shoes.  And so it hit me.  Like a bolt of lightning I got it:  God prepares for us the trials that he prepares us to overcome. 

If I were to wish for someone else’s adversity, I’d have one far worse than I can imagine undertaking.  The same would be true for anyone looking at what I’m going through.  Who could possibly want to experience this!?

And so, I thank God, for the trials he gives me, and pray for the overcoming of all of those who carry a burden I’d never wish to have. 

I thank God that my children are physically safe.  I thank God that they are not ill.  I thank God for the deep faith he allows me to have for their return.  I thank God for the lessons I’m learning.  I thank God for the example he has allowed us to be.  I thank God that in a time of need my circle of friends has not diminished, but increased in an amazing way.  I thank God that every day he blesses me in so many ways, that I can’t look at what I am going through and say, why me?  And mostly, I thank God for the faith that tells me that though I don’t know the reason, I know the answer:  It was meant to be.

In life and adversity our emotions change from day to day.  Our mental and physical health fall prey to stress and anxiety.  Our humility gets tested, and our egos suffer.  The trick, I believe, is to place our trials back in God’s hands, and lead from where he guides us.  And if we follow his direction right, we may even have the chance to positively impact the lives of those who follow.  And what greater victory can there be than that? 

At least that’s what I choose to believe.   

There are many facets of faith that I could still explore, but this is the direction in which I was led today.  What does faith mean to you?

If you wish to support the return of my children, please sign our petition at: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/takeaction/275/669/976/ 
 

No bump, no bruise, no abuse! What does Islam have to say?

In recent months the number of women I’ve encountered who are engaged in abusive relationships astounds me. More astounding is the level of abuse the women in these relationships were willing to take.  Not one of them was/is in a physically abusive situation, which is scarier indeed. 

Society in general fosters the belief that if there are no bumps or bruises, there is no abuse.  And this is a tremendous danger.  When we teach that abuse is a physical action, we also teach the abused to define their experience through this lens.  The result is that thousands of individuals who are emotionally, mentally, financially and spiritually exploited never learn to define their experience. I personally experienced a mentally and emotionally abusive marriage. And it was not until I left it that I was able to recognize it as abusive at all. 

Once victimization occurs, a cycle of violence inevitably ensues.  Sadly, the abused will typically become his/her own worst enemy by blaming him/herself, seeking means to avoid angering the abuser, and then feeling guilty when the abuse occurs again.

Islamically speaking, it is my understanding that domestic abuse is prohibited.  Unfortunately, a cursory search of Google will only land a handful of scholarly articles with paid access and links to pages with no verifiable credibility.  There was one link to an undeveloped site by ISNA (Islamic Society of North America), but nothing speaking directly to the Islamic stance on domestic violence.  Given the rates of abuse amongst the Muslim community in the U.S., I think it’s evidentiary that a need that has been overlooked. 

I did discover two videos of Imam’s discussing the topic - one by Imam Khalid Latif (Real Men Don’t Hit Women), and the other by Imam Hamza Yusuf (Removing the Silence on Domestic Violence) - on Halaltube.com.  These, however, are not enough. They do not cover the breadth of domestic violence and what it entails, and they do not convey enough of what Islam teaches us about relationships with Allah, ourselves, and those around us.  Our ummah is only as strong as we make it. And when we overlook and diminish topics as broad and important as domestic violence, we weaken ourselves and generations to come.

I challenge the Muslim scholars, Imams and Shaikah to become more expansive on this topic.  1 in 3 women in the United States is or has been in an abusive relationship.  This statistic holds no racial, ethnic or religious boundary.  That is your sister, my friend, and someone’s mom.  If we do not become bold about defining domestic violence in all of its manifestations, we empower the abusers amongst us to continue.

I will continue to write about this topic throughout the month in various forms. I request you spread the message widely and particularly amongst the Muslim community.  We need conversation and real leadership and guidance on this topic.

What does love mean to 4-8 year olds?

***I don't know from where this came...but I appreciated it enough to share:

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, “What does love mean?”

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.” Rebecca- age 8

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.” Billy – age 4

“Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.” Karl – age 5

“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.” Chrissy – age 6

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.” Terri – age 4

“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.” Danny – age 7

“Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss” Emily – age 8

“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” Bobby – age 7 (Wow!)

“If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,” Nikka – age 6 (we need a few million more Nikka’s on this planet)

“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.” Noelle – age 7

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.” Tommy – age 6

“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.” Cindy – age 8

“My mommy loves me more than anybody You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.” Clare – age 6

“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.” Elaine-age 5

“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.” Chris – age 7

“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.” Mary Ann – age 4

“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.” Lauren – age 6

“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” (what an image)

Karen – age 7

“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross.” Mark – age 6

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” Jessica – age 8

And the final one — Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbour was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, “Nothing, I just helped him cry”

***(This is not the original work of Zee)