In a previous article about God as as-Samad written by Jinan Yousef, we were reminded that the qualities of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) were often to be linked to other qualities, and that thinking that way unfolded new perspectives. If we praise Allah (swt) by calling him al-Ghafûr, for example, the Concealer of faults, it is implicit that we think of His other attributes, such as al-‘Alîm (The All-Knower) and al-Basîr (The All-Seeing). This notion of Allah as the Concealer of faults as well as the All-Knower and All-Seeing brings a dimension of real intimacy between the Creator and His creatures; Indeed, although He is al-’Alim and He knows everything about us, even the most despicable things, He is also al-Ghafûr and He conceals them, out of generosity, kindness, and mercy, for He is also at-Tawwab (the One who accepts repentance), al-Wadûd (the Loving), and al-Barr (the source of all goodness).

Thinking of Allah (swt) as al-Ghafûr can shed light on important dimensions of our nafs (inner self), pride and insecurity. What does it mean in our relationship with our own self to believe in a God who is at the same time al-Ghafûr and al-Wadûd? As it is often repeated, Islam is the religion of the golden mean (the middle between two extremes). Schematically, we could define pride as forgetting one’s flaws, and we could define insecurity as remembering those flaws too often and letting them haunt us. Thus, thinking of ourselves from the perspective of being seen in every detail by Allah (swt) helps us to stand in this golden mean of the nafs—between pride and low self-esteem—because we are aware that He knows our flaws, yet we also know that we are still always worthy of His love.

And what does it mean in our relationship with people to think of Allah (swt) as the Concealer of our faults? It means remembering the light of Allah even when we manage to keep our weaknesses from the sight of people. Remembering Him as the One who conceals our faults reminds us that those flaws are many and that God is so good to us that He chooses to hide them from other people’s eyes. Even if we manage to give a perfect image of ourselves and even if we feel the love of people for that image that we give, we know that there is always the One looking at us for what we really are, and no one is perfect. Our flaws are always under the light of al-‘Alim.

Beauty, wealth, and success can make us overlook our defects or forget them altogether, but by remembering Allah and remembering His quality of Concealer, we remember that He knows each and every one of our shortcomings, and it can help us keep our nafs under control. So it protects us from hubris and vanity, but also from insecurity because although we know that we have flaws and we know that God knows every one of them – from the greatest to the most invisible – we also know that those flaws can be forgiven by Him easily, and that they are always under the shade of His Mercy. Our flaws are seen by the only One who will always be ready to love us, no matter how bad our flaws are, as soon as we return to Him.

So finally, most importantly, what does it mean in our relationship with God? Understanding that Allah will always love us even though He is aware of every one of our defects creates an amazing bond between us and Him. What a comforting thought, what a relief, how soothing it is to understand that He will always be ready to love us, to accept our repentance and to understand our intention to be better, even though we slip and fall so many times throughout our lives! What a refuge we have here from the judgment of other people, as well as from their praise! Allah (swt) offers us this beautiful gift of being able to stand under His sight, under full light, being fully ourselves and knowing that we are loved for that.

Isn’t it once again the image of a mother, who knows what her child is proficient in and what he is not so good at, who will love and protect him no matter how nasty the child can be at times? It builds such a strong, sincere relationship to Allah (swt) because, very much like a mother, we feel confortable talking to Him, confiding in Him, knowing that He knows us so well and that He still loves us, no matter what, for truly He is al-Wadud.

By Gabrielle Deonath

The Hijab Diaries: Part I | Part II

Because I started wearing my hijab in the beginning of this past summer, a thought that was always in the back of my mind was how people in school would react to the change I’d made. How would acquaintances and friends treat me? Would the people I had previously had problems with mock me?

All summer while I was wearing my hijab, I felt comfortable and confident. I would have conversations with co-workers or classmates about Islam or religion in general. I felt so happy and free to be myself. As much as I tried to analyze what people would think, for the most part, I thought I would be confident and have a different perspective, socially, this year.

After two months of being away, the first day of school came and went. I remember seeing some friends I hadn’t seen all summer who were very supportive of my hijab. I remember my health teacher telling me how pretty I was (She’s a female. Don’t freak out!). No one stared, no one asked any questions, no one seemed to care about my change. I was happy, but some part of me didn’t feel completely comfortable either.

Before, I was always a loner. I just enjoyed being with my own thoughts, rather than getting caught up in high school drama that I’d had enough of and wanted to take no part in. This time, it somehow felt different. Over the summer, I had become friends with people who were in college. They seemed more in my headspace. They were thinking about their future and they were more mature in socialization skills; we just had much more in common than I’d ever had with anyone in my own grade. I went from feeling very connected and confident to feeling very detached, alone, and insecure.

I also had what I would describe as paranoia. If someone was laughing with a friend and they were looking at me, I would assume they were mocking my hijab and/or Islam. I somehow felt people were treating me differently, even though in actuality, everyone was treating me pretty much the same. I cried the first Friday I spent in school. I was overwhelmed by my feelings and I didn’t have anyone to turn to. Being a practicing Muslim was new to my life, so it was hard for me to believe that I didn’t need anyone else, except Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He).

After I calmed down and a few adults and an old friend soothed my feelings, life began to change. I gained that confidence back, little by little. I realized that yes, I look different than I did before, but that’s all that changed. I always had the morals of Islam in my heart; I just never outwardly showed it. I soon began to get into the grind of school, and the workload began to take over that empty time I had.

I started a club about religious awareness and tolerance, which kept me busy and gave me something to be passionate about that involved Islam. My idea for the club came to me this past school year when I was still deciding about whether to wear the hijab. I wanted a way to connect to others on this journey so I thought starting an MSA would be a good idea, but unfortunately, there aren’t many Muslim students in my school. Plus, those that are there are interested in other things besides Islam. I, then, thought about a club about religious tolerance and acceptance. I believed this would be a great way to spread Islam’s message and squash the misconceptions that many Americans have about it. We’ve had some really interesting conversations in the club. People want to learn about Islam and understand our religion. We’re also able to see many of the similarities between the major religions. The turnout wavers meeting to meeting, which is expected with any new club, but for the most part, it has been an uplifting, encouraging experience.

Going back to school has been a normal experience. Much of the anxiety I’ve had stemmed from my own insecurities and paranoia. It’s like going into school with a broken limb: in the beginning, it’s a big deal and everyone wants to help, but eventually, you’re left on your own and people don’t really care. If you are worried about what people are going to think, whether it’s your co-workers, or your classmates, don’t let it hold you back. You never know when your last day will be. People are generally very open-minded and encouraging. This decision is for you and Allah (swt) alone. Remember that Allah is always watching over you and He never gives you more than you can handle.

Gabrielle Deonath is sixteen years old and is a new hijabi. She is of Indian and Guyanese decent. She is a student in high school. She strives to learn about new things about Islam every day, and implement what she learns in her life as best as she can. She hopes her story can help other sisters who are in the spot she once was.