“The one you are looking to for help and guidance needs patience and good treatment too. No Muslim is perfect, whether revert or born into a Muslim family, student or Islamic teacher, layperson or scholar.”

—from the journal of Umm Zakiyyah

It took years before I realized how others saw me. In my mind, I was still that self-conscious girl whose voice was trapped inside her in a world that belonged to other people. I was still the girl who would walk the boisterous halls of middle school with the daily hope—and prayer—that no one took notice. I did not want anyone to see the white cloth on my head. It was the double-take that scared me most. If someone looked twice, I knew a snide remark or sneer was coming…and then maybe them yanking off my hijab.

O Allah, protect me from them. That was my heart’s daily plea. The banging of lockers slamming closed. The whirling whisper of combination locks turning. And even laughter. These were the most terrifying sounds to me.

In elementary school I fought back—once. But the school had swiftly punished me for harming the boy who had harmed me daily. So I knew better than to seek comfort in teachers or administrators. My only hope was in wowing them with my wits. They were on the other side, opposite me. Their cordiality was an obligation, their kindness a contract term that expired at the end of the day. But their hearts were aligned with students who hovered near my locker, saying, “What would you do if we snatched that rag off your head?”

At such moments, my words were a gift, a miracle even. And I was often in awe at the effect they had on others, the effect they had in protecting me.

“But you’re Umm Zakiyyah,” a friend and colleague said to me one day when I came to her for advice regarding some problems the teachers were having at our school.

“What?” I said, taken aback. I had no idea what my being a published author had to do with addressing our concerns.

“People expect a lot from you,” she said, almost apologetically.

After a few more moments of puzzlement, my heart dropped in understanding. If I spoke up, people would think, What’s her problem? Who does she think she is?

And like a prophecy, my friend’s words kept manifesting themselves around me. “I never expected this from you,” an administrator said to me when I asked if my workload could be lessened. I was teaching more hours than my contract stipulated, and I was also being given unofficial administrative responsibilities. I did not think I could handle much more. “You’re not the type of person I’d expect to complain about doing extra to help the school.”

Oh my God, how do other Muslims do it? This is the question that stays with me today. How do imams and scholars, public figures and Islamic teachers, and even overtly “strong Muslims” and those active in their communities carry the burden of benefiting others while managing to be viewed as human at the same time?

And I am not talking about excessive workloads. I am talking about the expectations that others have of you. The inability to make a mistake. Having no right to a bad day. The requirement to get everything right. The swift criticism if your words inadvertently offend someone—or if someone feels you could have done more for them.

“I’m only human,” I have often said.

“But you can’t expect others to see you that way,” I was told.

Years ago, I would have taken these words to heart, believing that I myself should deny my humanity simply because others expected me to. But today I am more realistic, more hopeful even. Because now I understand that each of us has a similar struggle as we seek spiritual direction and help others along the way.

But there are still times that I feel like that girl in the boisterous halls of middle school, hoping and praying that no one does a double-take and sees a person who is distinctly different from them.

Umm Zakiyyah is the internationally acclaimed author of the If I Should Speak trilogy and the novel Muslim Girl. Daughter of American converts to Islam, she writes about the interfaith struggles of Muslims and Christians, and the intercultural, spiritual, and moral struggles of Muslims in America. She also writes under her birth name Ruby Moore. Currently, she is working on an independent film project to turn her first novel into a movie. Visit her website at uzauthor.com

Copyright © 2015 by Al-Walaa Publications. All Rights Reserved.

WRITTEN FOR VIRTUALMOSQUE.COM

Why is it that the only kind of ‘love’ that comes to mind today is that of the marriage-bound, or at times not-so-marriage-bound, love? Yes, that is a type of love. Yes, that is an important kind of love. But there is another type of love that is missing in our day-to-day interactions, our hearts, and our lives. A kind of love that I am–and hopefully you will be, too, after reading this–determined to revive. A kind of love that, if spread, would revolutionize our quality of life, from the inside out.

But before I take this leap and begin to infuse this blessed emotion into all of my words and actions, let me take a moment to apologize:

I’m sorry, you misunderstood; I am not infatuated with you.

My soul is attracted to your soul, in the most platonic way possible. My heart wants what’s best for you, without gaining anything in return. My smile wants to see your smile reflected back in my eyes, not because I am “in love” with you, but because I love you, just as I love the rest of humanity.

I love you because through you, I begin to see me. I look in your eyes and I see my reflection. I love you because you just happen to be living on the same planet as me, and if I didn’t love you, I could even start to hate you. I love you because if you are hurt, a part of me is pained, because in reality we are a part of a whole; we are one. I love you because when I’m with you your state impacts my own. When you are angry and upset a part of that is reflected onto me. When you are joyous and content, the peace spreads to my soul as well. I love you because when I look at you and see your flaws, what I am really seeing are my own flaws being projected onto you. I love you because love heals wounds and makes scars vanish. I love you because without you, whether I like it or not, I would not be exactly who I am today, even if I don’t know your name. Even if I have never had a conversation with you. God placed us together on this Earth for a reason, and it was not so we could stay as far away from each other as possible. It was so that we can love each other, and through each of our love, we can begin to experience His Love—the one true Love.

Love has many faces, but we have stripped it down to only one type, and in doing this we have deprived ourselves of caring for and helping others in ways that can only be achieved by allowing His Love to shine through us. His Love and His Light.

Many of you reading may find these words too flowery, too weird or just plain absurd for your liking. If that’s the case, don’t worry. It’s okay. I love you anyway.

No really, take a look around. Everything is in complete chaos, nothing seems to make sense. It seems that with every coming day things just keep getting worse and worse. Humanity is lost. People do not care about each other like they used to. It is clearly apparent that the world as we know it is going down the drain and there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Or is it? Think back to the “good ol’ days.”  The days when things actually made sense, and there was still humanity to be seen around every corner. Perhaps it was a time when you were young when the world seemed to be perfectly aligned, or at least for the most part. Or perhaps you can’t remember a time where things made sense, but you have heard about those times and secretly crave to be teleported back as soon as possible.

One of those times that is oft brought up is the time when the Prophet ﷺ  (peace be upon him) was present on the earth. We hear stories about when the Prophet ﷺ  was amongst the people, and we get swept away by the beauty of it all. A time when human life was still regarded as precious. It was a time when trustworthiness was praised and encouraged. It was a time when mercy, compassion and love were shown to all. Hearing these stories can make us want to get lost in this picture-perfect memory and leave reality for at least a few peaceful moments.

While the truth is, it was such a beautiful time and no one can deny the blessings and the beauty that radiated throughout the lands, we are overlooking some of the details of this time as well. We are forgetting that there were people living at that time who were burying their daughters alive simply because they were girls. We are forgetting that there were people who were plotting and planning to kill the beloved Messenger ﷺ for speaking the truth. We forget that people were murdering each other, stealing from each other and betraying each other. We forget that there was plenty of evil during that time as well, evil that our Prophet ﷺ was trying to erase.

The fact of the matter is that it is easy to look back on times and see the highlights of the good, the beautiful and the beneficial; although when in the situation, all we can see are the crazies and the evils. It is easy to think that the world is going down the drain when stuck in the middle of the whirlpool of life, but perhaps in 20 years you will look back and see the beauty that was surrounding you through it all.

The key to it all is trying to enjoy it while it lasts. To take the example of our beloved Prophet ﷺ who lived through times that are now seen as “the good ol’ days.” It is said that he was never to be seen without a smile on his face. That he would greet anyone he came across and ask about their well being. He even checked up on a person who had been throwing trash at his door when the trash stopped appearing, in fear that the person might have been sick. He was a light that was spreading love, and through his love he touched the lives of the people around him, granting them the light to carry through. It is this example that we should take and implement in our lives during the present moment.

Be a light and spread your love to every person you meet: be it through a smile, a kind word or even a small gesture. Know that, yes, there are crazy things going down in the world that are horrifically unexplainable, but that never stopped the beauty of love from penetrating the lives and hearts of others in the past—so it will not prevent us today. And realize that the days you are living right now, may in fact be “the good ol’ days” not too far down the line.

So, no, the world has not gone crazy. The world has been crazy from the start. But in that craziness we find the perfect opportunity to bring light to where it is needed most.

By Farhia Yahya

I was once walking along a narrow but busy street in Cairo when ahead of me was a donkey-cart laden with handmade pottery and clay utensils. It belonged to an old man who had been walking slowly beside it, and trying to sell whatever he could to make an income. He walked with hunched-shoulders, a turban tied round his head like a Sa’idi from Upper Egypt, his face wrinkled by age and the harsh Egyptian sun. It wasn’t hard to see that many difficult years had passed over him and he had probably been doing this for a long while.

As I continued to walk, I heard a cry and some commotion. The donkey had staggered back (probably startled by something) and as a result, the harnessing pushed the cart upwards, sending the pottery and clay shattering out into the street. It was heartbreaking to see the poor man’s face turn dark and sorrowful. With a heavy heart, he began to pick up the broken and chipped pieces of clay and pottery; his livelihood and merchandise that no one was going to buy now.

But as he did so, I began to see random people come out of shops and apartments, hurrying towards him and picking up his pottery from the street. There was no more hustle and bustle; just a quiet silence as people stopped to help him. Cars stopped out of respect, or slowly diverted around the broken and chipped clay. What was truly moving was to see many people pull out money and give it to the man as if they were purchasing the broken clay, except they weren’t buying anything (other than Paradise I guess). Drivers stuck out money from their window for the poor aged man, and almost every person who helped pick up the pieces also chipped in with sadaqah (charity). They realized that today, he wasn’t going to be making much money… in fact for that whole month to come, he probably wasn’t going to be making much at all.

It was incredible to see the hearts of people move like this. Humanity may disappear and people may be cruel towards the poor in certain places and at certain times, but in other places and at other times, the humanity is truly beautiful.

Keep your heart close to the poor and needy; they help to keep it alive.