Friday, May 12, 2006

Life is What Happens to You




I could not have planned out this life I'm living. I would not have wanted it, but I got it and I'm determined to live it to the fullest.

My beautiful baby is quietly and lovingly playing with his toys on the floor. He is the baby that I couldn't have imagined. I never thought I was going to have him, but there he sits in oblivion of my pre-conceived notions for my life.

"My god is too small," is the phrase that brings me back into the correct framework for living. When I think that I can plan out exactly my "to-do list," for the next day, let alone the next year, I make myself too big and my god too small. Allah, is the God beyond our comprehension, as are all plans from God. Muslims don't doubt God's wisdom and God's reasoning. We don't ask, "why." We say, "thank you," for everything that comes our way.

It is hard to thank God for a divorce. It is the most hated thing that God allows in this world. But it is necessary sometimes.

I know my first marriage needed to end, otherwise I never would have had the freedom to worship as a Muslim. I never would have become the woman I am today. I would never given birth to this joy.

Today, my husband, in this my second marriage, talked to a shiek about his first marriage. He divorced her three times and in Islam three times and you're out. There is no other chance. Allah gives a limit so that the people move on with their lives. But, my husband is so determined to rectify the past that he is willing to go to Egypt's highest religious court and petition for one more chance. He says now that twice he didn't really mean to divorce her. She says now that she had her period two of those times (which some scholars says nullifies a divorce, though it is not the popular opinion). Allah knows best and both need to fear Allah in what they are doing.
They are going to wait to say their spiel until my husband legally divorces me here. That doesn't make sense to me. I would think that it makes more sense to find out first if the two are legal to wed, but it simply can't bother me. If I get financially what I need, then bring it on. I'll sign. I'll still be in love with my husband. I'll still be sad that he's doing this thing, but I'll go ahead. And I'll stay his wife Islamically.


The legal divorce from me takes money and it takes time. We have very little money and I can't see when that is changing. My husband wants to stay in the U.S. with me and the baby until it is finalized. Then, he would leave for Egypt, to be with his ex and his kids and he would try to rekindle whatever is still there.

I do find it interesting that his children have been led to believe their parents are still married. There was no divorce. There is no me. There is no brother. Those who don't live in the truth are not close to Allah.

I do want to be with Allah in all things. I want to remember Allah in all that I'm doing and thank Allah for everything that happens. This "Dear Abby" essay is a great analogy for how I want to live life.


WELCOME TO HOLLAND

by Emily Perl Kingsley

[Life is] like planning a fabulous vacation trip -- to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. Michelangelo's "David." The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The flight attendant comes and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!" you say. "What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. You must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.

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