{"id":6994,"date":"2016-07-04T16:00:44","date_gmt":"2016-07-04T20:00:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/altmuslim\/?p=6994"},"modified":"2016-07-04T12:38:42","modified_gmt":"2016-07-04T16:38:42","slug":"because-its-not-about-the-fasting-its-about-the-forgiveness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/altmuslim\/2016\/07\/because-its-not-about-the-fasting-its-about-the-forgiveness\/","title":{"rendered":"Because it’s Not about the Fasting, its about the Forgiveness"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\"Image<\/a>
Image source: Pixabay<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>

By Zeba Khan<\/strong><\/p>\n

I was ten years old the first time I fasted. My family had just moved to Karachi, and we were living in the heart of the extended family compound, staying in my aunt\u2019s house next door to my uncle\u2019s house, which was downstairs from my uncle\u2019s house, and also, to the left of my uncle\u2019s house.<\/p>\n

I had ten thousand cousins and since they<\/em> were all fasting, I decided I was fasting too.<\/p>\n

I made it through the first day tired but exhilarated, and was immediately rewarded with Fried Food and Pink Drink. I fasted the next day as well and then the next \u2014 and before I knew it, I had completed the entire month, and I was officially Someone Who Fasted. It was a point of great personal pride for me \u2013 whether or not acts of religious devotion are meant to be a source of pride in the first place \u2013 and I fasted without fail every year thereafter, except for the years where I failed to fast at all.<\/p>\n

There have been lots of them actually \u2014 failed fasts and entire failed Ramadans. In the beginning they were related to pregnancy and breastfeeding, and they were a temporary loss with a foreseeable solution.<\/p>\n

I would always try to fast next year InshaAllah<\/em>. I would pay my fidya<\/em> (just in case) and spread my make-up fasts throughout the year before next Ramadan came. I took it as a given that I would always be healthy enough to fast and that the effect of motherhood on my fasting was temporary.<\/p>\n

I was wrong.<\/p>\n

Medically Exempt but Mourning the Loss<\/strong><\/p>\n

I got sick. Turns out I was born that way, but it tends to get worse over time. I have a rare genetic glitch called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Among other things, it makes fasting for an entire month impossible. Heck, I can\u2019t fast an entire week without being utterly wiped out.<\/p>\n

Hunger, dehydration and sleep deprivation trigger an avalanche of side-effects: migraines, fibromyalgia, disorientation, heart palpitations, chronic fatigue, upset stomach, orthostatic hypotension, muscle cramps, chest pain, shortness of breath \u2026 Ramadan for me carries the kind of side effects you expect from prime-time pill commercials, not a holy month.<\/p>\n

You think I would have jumped for joy when doctors and scholars told me that I really ought to not fast. They told me I wouldn\u2019t be expected to, and that if I didn\u2019t, I wouldn\u2019t be sinful. What they didn\u2019t say though, is that I wouldn\u2019t be sad.<\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t tell me that I would live for years in mourning. They didn\u2019t tell me that the loss of fasting would leave a hole in my heart that bled anew on an annual basis. They probably didn\u2019t know I would begin every Ramadan with private, painful tears and end it with more of the same.<\/p>\n

It was no surprise this year then, just 29 days ago, that I welcomed Ramadan in the same way. The night before the first fast I spent angry, self-destructive hours on my phone surfing the internet, refreshing the same social media feeds repetitively, and resentfully ignoring \u201cRamadan Mubarak!\u201d messages from hordes of cheerful and infuriating well-wishers.<\/p>\n

It was a long night, and when the alarm clock went off for Fajr, I was still stewing in red-eyed resentment when my husband sat up and looked at me with the slow contemplation of a man waking up to a mystery.<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t sleep,\u201d I said evasively, trying to poke my phone under my pillowcase without being noticed.<\/p>\n

He blinked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was busy!\u201d I snapped, challenging him to challenge me.<\/p>\n

He raised half of a half-asleep eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was busy being angry!\u201d I turned onto my side. And then, I burst into tears.<\/p>\n

I have to wonder why I\u2019m choosing to share this pain. After all, it\u2019s less than a month old and \u201cResentful Ramadan Sobbing\u201d is hardly a tradition. There are lots of things you expect to read about in Ramadan every year, but me testing how absorbent the front of my husband\u2019s pajamas are probably isn\u2019t one.<\/p>\n

I know what you\u2019re thinking, you\u2019re thinking Hey Zeba there\u2019s this article on Muslim Matters that this sister wrote about not being able to fast<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Thank you, I read it.<\/p>\n

I even wrote it. It talked about a change in perception for people temporarily missing out in Ramadan, about how rather than feeling depressed, they should take the opportunity as a challenge and do their best to participate in ways other than fasting.<\/p>\n

It was good advice if I may say so myself, but it was missing something. It was missing the point. I think I\u2019ve managed to find it, but first you have to get through the next few paragraphs.<\/p>\n

The Suspenseful Part<\/strong><\/p>\n

Two weeks ago I was fasting. It started off routinely \u2014 my husband lovingly hauled me out of bed so I could fall asleep at the kitchen table. He put food and Gatorade and pills in front of me, which I ate and drank and took with my eyes closed. He stood me up to do wudu,<\/em> and I wobbled like a drunk, stumbling into a few walls for emphasis.<\/p>\n

By the time I made it to prayer I was almost at the point of tears. I prayed Fajr as quickly and upright as I could manage and mumbled some duas on my way back to bed. I woke up at noon \u2013 through maternal necessity versus choice \u2013 to disentangle myself from the shawl I slept in and find cereal and spoons for the tiny people who call me \u201cMomma do you need coffee\u201d when I wake up in the morning.<\/p>\n

By 4 p.m. I was still in the same stupor I had woken up in. My head was a hollow metal drum and my children\u2019s voices were sledge-hammers. The stairs were mountains high and my legs thigh-deep in the invisible waters of fatigue. Disoriented and in pain, I was too sick to pray attentively and too mentally absent to read the Quran.<\/p>\n

The Irony Sucked<\/strong><\/p>\n

I had been so excited to fast and here I was so incapacitated by fasting. My only way to survive until iftaar<\/em> was to install myself in a recliner not move until the adhan<\/em> (call to prayer) was called. YouTube was in order.<\/p>\n

In an attempt to pass the time without resorting to garbage while fasting, I began flipping through Islamic lectures on a variety of topics. Nothing stuck, nothing resonated with my half-functioning brain. I continued watching out of sheer stubbornness, which Alhamdulillah, paid off in the end with this:<\/p>\n

Whoever fasts during Ramadan with faith and seeking his reward from Allah will have his past sins forgiven.<\/p>\n

Whoever prays during the nights in Ramadan with faith and seeking his reward from Allah will have his past sins forgiven.<\/p>\n

And he who passes Lailat al-Qadr in prayer with faith and seeking his reward from Allah will have his past sins forgiven.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

You might have read this hadith before. I have too, but turns out it makes more sense when you can\u2019t fast. See, the first thing the Prophet (saw) mentions is fasting, but it\u2019s not the only thing he mentioned.<\/p>\n

He also mentioned prayer, worship, Lailatul-Qadr, and the entire point that I had been missing for more than 20 years. See, between the samosas and the rooh afza* and the carte blanche to stay up all night with ten thousand other cousins who stayed up all night too, I loved Ramadan for all the wrong reasons.<\/p>\n

It turns out that Ramadan isn\u2019t about food. In fact, it\u2019s not even about fasting. Ramadan is actually about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

Really, look at it again. Whoever fasts is forgiven, whoever prays in forgiven, whoever worships on Lailatul Qadr is forgiven. It\u2019s all about the forgiveness.<\/p>\n

If you don\u2019t believe me, perhaps you\u2019d like it from a higher authority? On Abu Hurayra\u2019s, the Prophet (SAW) himself said:<\/p>\n

\u201cMany people who fast get nothing from their fast except hunger and thirst, and many people who pray at night get nothing from it except wakefulness.\u201d<\/p>\n

That means it is completely possible to win at fasting and make your Ramadan an utter loss. Yes, the day hunger and the night prayer are two very awesome ways of attaining forgiveness, but fasting is the means to the end. Not the end itself.<\/p>\n

Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

The Real Point of Ramadan<\/strong><\/p>\n

As recently as 29 days ago, I believed that Ramadan = Fasting. That is why, when I was no longer able to fast successfully, I wondered what the point of Ramadan even was.<\/p>\n

That is why, three years before that, when I wrote \u201cWhat I Learned about Ramadan by Not Fasting,\u201d<\/a> the gist of what I said was: Sorry you\u2019re missing out on the main part of Ramadan. Here\u2019s your consolation prize.<\/p>\n

This is what I should have said instead.<\/p>\n

Dear person who can\u2019t, and foreseeably won\u2019t, be able to fast. It\u2019s ok to be sad. I\u2019m sad too. I know you read this article once on Muslim Matters where this sister said that instead of feeling sad, you should feel honored. But you know what? Let\u2019s call that Plan B. Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

Before you can move past sadness you need to understand where it\u2019s coming from in the first place. Not being well enough to fast is just one of the many ways that my body is failing to live up to my heart\u2019s expectations. Not fasting reminds me of not being able to do sujood<\/em>, and how my forehead still yearns for the humble proximity of the floor in my prayers.<\/p>\n

Not fasting reminds me of not being able to stand very long in prayers, and how I am unable to attend tarawih<\/em> or qiyaam<\/em> in a masjid because it\u2019s not possible for me to be on my feet that long. Yes, I could sit for the whole time, but the hard-backed chairs in the masjid lend themselves to sprained muscles and terrible back pain due to hypermobility in my spine.<\/p>\n

We see our health as sure thing. We undervalue it because we assume it\u2019ll always be there and there\u2019s no urgency to use it before we lose it. I took fasting for granted too. Since it was always there, and it was always easy, I never put the effort in to make it a religious experience. But it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

This is where I find a different kind of sadness.<\/p>\n

In all the years I spent fasting, from age 10-30, I cannot remember a single Ramadan where I had a sense of purpose other than making it to sunset. Ramadan was a list where I ticked off the days for a sense of pride and perfunctory practice, to say that I had done it and to not be accountable in case I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

I feel as though 20 years I fasted and missed out on the main point, and Allah had to take fasting away from me in order for me to finally see it. I understand now, and only now, that Ramadan is about your soul\u2019s longing and not your stomach\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

I understand that for someone with chronic illness, a day of eating and rest is the foundation that a night of praying is built on. Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

I have learned that honest, private tears in close conversation with Allah hold more of my actual soul than the hours of brain-dead hunger that I had been beating myself up over. Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

Fasting is the means to the end, but it isn\u2019t the end itself. Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m still sad, but it\u2019s a different kind of sadness. I\u2019m sad I spent so many years in hunger without feeding my spirit. I went though the motions unchallenged, unthinking, and uninterested in seeking the greater purpose. I\u2019m sad I spent so much time in resentment towards Allah when He was lovingly guiding me to a critical lesson I may otherwise never have learned.<\/p>\n

I am not happy that I am chronically ill, but I am grateful beyond words that Allah removed the distraction of a health so I could focus on spiritual healing. Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

I will still cry when Ramadan comes again, but they will be tears of relief should I live to see another Ramadan.<\/p>\n

I will cry when Ramadan is over too, but they will be the tears of a loved one departing versus the tantrums of a spoiled child.<\/p>\n

Because it\u2019s not about fasting, it\u2019s about forgiveness.<\/p>\n

*It\u2019s the Pink Drink<\/p>\n

Zeba Khan is a bi-racial writer, parent, and autism awareness advocate. She is the mother of three children, a special little boy with autism and two special little girls without. Zeba writes about special needs parenting and autism awareness in addition to Islam and personal spirituality. By day, she is a mother and the managing director of an early-intervention ABA service. By night, she is a writer of poetry and fiction related to Islam and Muslims.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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