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256 pages, Hardcover
Published December 11, 2018
Practising faith is like opening a door and realizing your life so far has been lived in a broom cupboard in the mention of existence. Reality actually lies beyond and underneath the nuts and bolts, the brooms and cloths of the material world.
A door in my heart felt like it had been opened by these magic words: "I fast in Ramadan to remember the poor." Yet Um Mohamed was poor herself, catastrophically, appallingly, permanently, desperately poor. . . Of course, now it all made sense. If you recognize there were always those worse off than you, how could you sink into self-pity and endless speculation about work, money, the future? How could you envy when you were blessed? If you cared about your neighbor like yourself, if you were busy with their concerns, it took the edge off your own. What a remarkable system! A welfare state of human empathy, flowing from household to household and all with one purpose: To love and to please God. . . I was in a beautiful daze and then the thought came to me clear as day: "If this is Islam, I want to be Muslim."
For weeks during the trial I wanted to stay in bed and asked over and over, "why me?" Instead I forced myself to work, as so many single mums do around the world. What kept me going was the thought that it first seems negative, but proved very powerful: "Why not me?" Why shouldn't calamities hit my family when they afflicted others? Life wasn't about building castles in the sky, clinging to material goods thinking that well would keep disasters at bay. A positive outlook, kindness, the giving of love even in the midst of a personal drama, I found these things mattered more. Illness, financial pressures, divorce, and loss where the things of life. All I now had to ask was: how was I going to deal with them?