Who am I?

As Salaaumu'alaykum all!!

We remain in America for the time being, at least for the next few weeks insha'Allah. My son has had the pins removed from his elbow, and now we begin the slow process of getting that joint moving again, as it is quite stiff at this point.

I was speaking to a friend today, and she was lamenting the fact that she is having difficulty writing her thoughts. She wants to write about often feeling like her words relating to Truth, do not always accurately reflect her state. At least this is how I remember the conversation.

I've been thinking about this tonight, and have to stop myself from examining how I think this reflects on others, and see how it reflects on the only individual I can do anything about. I can speak of ideals, good ethics, how we should practice patience, have faith, believe, love, and all the rest. But when I sit at night I know I am not the person I should be. I know that as high as my thoughts may be, I have not attained my potential, or even close. But I am striving, and hope to strive with more effort as I continue along.

In relation to others, I think of how people sometimes are neutral, sometimes they good, and sometimes how they hurt me. When the latter comes along, it is hard not to take it personally. I realized a couple of years ago, that it is only that people are not aware of the effect their words have on the states of others. If we were to know truly what is happening in the minds and hearts of others, we would often have much more compassion.

When I come forward, black circles under my eyes at the register in the drugstore, and am not particularly friendly, the cashier doesn't know that I've just spent days listening to my son in pain. Sleepless nights, and that this is why we need yet another bottle of hydrocodone. Instead I might just seem like a grumpy and annoyed individual. And I wish they could know. So I would not have to explain what I just don't have the energy to speak of anymore.

But each time I experience this, I keep it in a log somewhere in my mind and heart, so that one day I will remember it. I will remember when I stand on the other side of the register. I pray it will be a reminder to me that while I may never understand or know the trials of others, we each have them. Usually, and almost always, they will have nothing to do with me specifically, but I must always maintain compassion for those who come before me. I know that I may or may not receive such compassion, but at least I can always try to give it in a world which is so often cruel and heartless. And maybe I can do a better job of putting a good face on difficult times when they come to me.

So there are my random thoughts at 3am, as I sit wishing I could be better in more ways than I can count, and believing that only by the Mercy of Allah will this transformation happen.