Maybe I’m wrong. I could very well be entirely wrong on this, but I am reminded of a hadith saying that Allah (God) loves us 70 times more than our own mother. And so I feel I’m allowed to do this. We are all allowed to lift up our arms in anger and frustration to Him, to vent as we would vent to our mother, husband or best friend, and He will Love us just the same.
That at times expressing my anger and frustration in no way takes away from the trust I have that there is something to all this. There is something here in all this that seems so hard and difficult and unfair – something bigger and better that I, for whatever reason, am not privy to at this time. There is justice and meaning and reasoning behind all this, though I am not able to see it now.
He has a plan, and either it hasn’t been revealed to me yet, or it will never be revealed to me in this life, or it has been revealed, and I just can’t see it yet.
Though I’m no religious scholar, no expert of Islam or faith in general, though I am but a mere mother and humble servant, this I know in my heart to be true: It’s ok to be mad at Him. It’s ok to say, why? It’s ok to say, I don’t get this. This makes no sense. This is not right. Why do you allow this to happen?
To question doesn’t mean I don’t have faith. That I haven’t put my trust and life into his Hands. To be angry at times doesn’t mean I am bereft love or faith in His infinite wisdom.
And it’s taken me a long, long time to realize this.
To question doesn’t mean I am ungrateful, that I don’t see the blessings and beauty in front of me, all that I have to be thankful. To be frustrated and angry doesn’t mean I have lost my way, though it has felt that way so many times before.
It only means that I am human, and this is hard. Really, really hard sometimes. That although I know my child is bound for something better and that he is free from the trappings of this life — he still has to live in this world. And when that living becomes painful and hurtful for him, then so help me, I hurt as well.
A friend of mine, when we were talking on a Facebook thread about about our special needs children, said to me (and I’m paraphrasing here):
When I was pregnant, I prayed for a child who would bring me closer to Him. Who would be a child of Jannat (heaven), who would help ease my path to a better life in the hereafter. And so when we learned my daughter had special needs, I knew that in a way my prayer had come true. She is an angel lent to me, and she is destined for a better place. And hopefully so are we, as her family So what more can I ask for?
I love this sentiment. I really, really do. In the worst of times, this keeps me steady, when I am so close to falling. But I also ride the roller coaster , when faith is steady and glorious and thrilling, and when it dips fast and makes my stomach churn with uncertainty and fear and frustration.
It’s been a difficult week. A week where I am bringing my boy to sleep beside me at night, so I can feel the solidness of his slumbering body next to mine. A week where I am dropping and picking him up from school instead of letting him go on the bus; going to school to see him during the day because my heart is not at ease, and I just really want to see him. Where I am seeing fresh marks on the sides of his eyes where he has raised his open hand to slap himself hard — something he hasn’t done in months. Where he is wrestling with things that he should never have to wrestle with, because his autism life is challenging enough as is.
Where I am saying why? I mean really, why?
Isn’t it enough? What is the lesson here? What is Your bigger plan that I am not privy to seeing at this time?
Oh, I wish You would tell me.