cor ad cor loquitur

where heart speaks to heart

The foundations of faith — June 22, 2015

The foundations of faith

I just got done crying my heart out…literally. I was writing another blog post, but it was to personal to post so now it’s just sitting in my drafts.

I had a heartfelt conversation with my friend today during our “study session.” These study sessions always end up with us talking about random things. Today, it was our annoying relatives back home. I kinda just ended up spilling my heart out to her, but the best thing was she just sat there and listened. That’s what I needed the most anyway. I needed someone who would genuinely listen to my problems, maybe throw in a comment here and there. She did exactly that. She listened, empathized, and just commented occasionally. It felt really good to let off steam. But I went off a tangent again.

I wanted to write about my faith in Allah, the Arabic word for God. I could have said God, but I like clearing misconceptions people have about things.

I’ve had so many moments where I just cry before bed. They’re usually preceded by something depressing or upsetting. Every time I have that emotional breakdown, I tend to have a conversation with God. I pray to God explaining to Him, explain to Him, and ask for Him to make it better.

There was a time in eighth grade when I felt alone. I felt like I had no friends, and the friends that I did have were fake. I would cry a lot during that year. Every time I cried, I asked God for a best friend. A few years later God gave me exactly what I wanted. I wouldn’t trade my baes for anything. My college friends are also a part of this blessing.

I used to fight with my mom a lot. There came a point where I thought she hated me. I thought she hated the fact that I was born. I thought she wished that my brother was her only child. Every time I cried after our fights, I told Him how I was fed up. I asked Him to make our relationship better. Sure enough, He did. My mom compliments the littlest things now. She expresses her joy during my tiny accomplishments. Receiving that motherly love without the pain and anguish makes me happy.

Does this mean my life is perfect? No, my life is far from that. Does that mean I blame God for the small problems I have? No, the small problems are materialistic. Who cares if I don’t have enough money for the most expensive shoes and car? What matters the most is that I’m happy. I’m content with the smallest things in life.

In Islam we have a belief that pretty much says that each person receives a test from God. The test assesses faith. Each person receives the test in a different form. For example, there are poverty stricken people in Pakistan who have a rather strong faith in Allah. If you ask them about their financial situation, they’ll reply they’re content because at least they have life and maybe food and water. They’re the sweetest people you meet, and they will shower you with blessings, the best present of all.

Yes, there are some things I pray for and don’t get. But that doesn’t mean God didn’t hear me. That just means deep down inside I didn’t really want them.