God’s Generosity

This is the view from my front door. I took it this evening with my wife’s camera when I came home from work. I took it because it means something to me; something that I’ve been thinking a great deal about for the past few days.

It represents how much God has given me, how generous He has been to me. When I was younger I used to dream that one day I’d live in a house looking out on a cottage garden. Well, that’s pretty much what I got. This photo doesn’t really do our garden any justice. When you wander up and down those steps each day you’re just taken by the beautiful flowers coming into bloom and the delicious scent of the Daphne. The other day I was standing at my front door, looking out onto the garden and I couldn’t help but say Alhamdulilah over and over. Why? Because there are different coloured primroses, cowslips, tulips and daffodils flowering all over the place, and we didn’t do a thing. I stood there saying Alhamdulilah and then another thought came to my mind: what a disgrace I am.

God has showered the pair of us in great bounties, and yet look how I have behaved over the last few weeks, months and years. When I reflected on this, I felt ashamed.

There are funny things that happen to us in our home which repeatedly remind us of God’s great generosity. Just after we got married, my wife suggested buying something for the kitchen which I refused, saying that it would be extravagant, only for us to receive it as a gift a few weeks later from my grandmother. Indeed, in her boxes of cast-offs that she insisted on sending us away with were half a dozen items that we had thought of over the preceding months. After we moved into our home my wife discovered a Black Sea fruit tree in our back garden which supplies her with an unending stream of berries much loved in her village back home each autumn. Just a few weeks ago, my wife saw something in my mother’s home that she thought would be useful in ours, only for our first set of guests on our return back home to give it to us as a gift – somewhat surprising given that it was somewhat unusual. These things happen to us a lot and each time it is a reminder of God’s generosity.

Lately I’ve been thinking about this a great deal. Over the past two and a half years I had a job which made me extremely depressed. Now I’ve dwelled on the fact before that I should really have been grateful to have had an income and that’s all true and accepted, but if I am honest, I really hated it. On my first day there after resigning from my previous workplace I sat with my manager and listened as he went through my job description, crossing out all of the elements that were no longer required of me. It was pretty much everything that had led me to apply for the post. Over the months that followed I sunk into quite a heavy bout of melancholy. It was only natural then that I should mention my employment when I stood on the Plain of Arafat during my Hajj a year ago. My prayer went something like this, “Oh Allah, You know my heart better than I do. I have no idea what I want to do to earn my living, so grant me a job that will make me happy, in which I will work hard and that will be good for me here and hereafter.”

Well God is most generous. On the day of Arafat a year later I started a new job – I only realised the significance when I put the radio on in my car and there was a report on Britain’s Hajj delegation gathering on the Plain that morning. I didn’t do anything to get this job. The department in which I originally worked was merged into another and my role disappeared as a result. They had to find me something to do, but Alhamdulilah, Alhamdulilah. Each day now I find myself reflecting on this new role of mine, because I really love it. It’s a great job and I’m doing something I really enjoy. I work hard now and I’m happy. That is God’s generosity completely. I did nothing to deserve this. It is His generosity completely. His generosity and His mercy.

And there is something else. Over the last few months I have been really stupid. My stupidity ultimately drove me to heavy tears under the strain of a heavy heart. Maybe it was looking out onto my front garden which brought me to a halt: those Alhamdulilahs followed by that feeling of shame and regret. Those thoughts of God’s incredible generosity followed by the reflection on my ingratitude. I prayed for God’s help, for His forgiveness, for His Guidance, for His aid. I think, just maybe, we have just witnessed His generosity once more. A wise friend has come to visit us and it seems he is setting us straight, helping us start each day in a good way and end each day in a good way too. I consider it God’s immense generosity.

When I think of what He has given me, showered on me, I can only feel ashamed. Has my conduct been any way to say Thank You? No, but perhaps recognising His generosity is the first step towards rectifying our affairs.

Gratitude

I am grateful to Allah, my Creator and the Creator of all things, that He granted me a home in a small market town in a steep-sided valley. I am grateful to my Lord for granting me this humble dwelling on one side of the valley, overlooking the fields of cows on the other side and the woodland beyond. I am grateful that He enables to buy fresh vegetables from the market in the centre of town every Saturday and that He provides fresh free-range eggs from a local farm via a shop five minutes away from the market stalls. I am grateful that He granted us a home we could afford, protecting us from the interest-based economy. I am grateful to Allah for granting me my loving, caring parents and I am grateful to them – although they may not think so given that I chose to walk this path, not theirs. But I am grateful. I am grateful for their unerring provision, the clothing they provided me in my youth, the education they furnished me with and the meals they prepared for me day after day. I am grateful that they sent me to Sunday School and took me to church, and instilled in me my moral compass. I am grateful for Stepping Stones when I was a child. I am grateful for all these things, and I thank Allah for granting them to me. I am grateful to Allah for granting me my wife, who supports me and encourages me, and cooks delicious Turkish tucker and doesn’t do a bad Englishi either. I am grateful to my Lord for granting me someone who understands me, who comforts me when I’m down and kicks me when I’m lazy, and I’m grateful to her too. I’m grateful to my Creator that He enabled me to make seven delicious scones this morning and I’m grateful that he decreed that my wife would not be angry with me about the burnt shortbread biscuits. I am grateful that Allah granted me the friendship of Abdul Haq who has recently moved to Bahrain; he is a great support to me always and a true friend indeed. I am grateful that He granted me the wise counsel of Abdul Baasit who has never over the seven years I have known him failed to ask after my parents, about their health and welbeing. I am grateful that Allah has granted me the ability to write and I am grateful that He has given me a creative nature. I am grateful that He granted me the opportunity to work on numerous books even as I tried to get out of each of them as they came along. I am grateful that God has granted me employment in an extremely pleasant country town, even though I often moan about my work ungratefully. I am grateful that I am able to walk past the ancient houses every day from my car to my desk and that in the summer I can ascend the hill between fields of barley to walk beneath the leafy canopy above in the forest at the top, or stroll beside the river running behind the highstreet. I am grateful that I can sit it the park amidst the scented flowers in my lunch hour and munch on my sandwiches. I am grateful that I am near enough to home to be able to pray in my local mosque at lunchtime in these winter months. I am grateful to my Lord for decreeing that my sister visits me in my little house on the hill whenever she is in the county. I am grateful that Allah has granted me good health. I am grateful that my Lord has granted me the companionship of fellow Englishmen also following this path, who smooth the way before me. I am grateful that Allah granted me the friendship of my older Somali companion Abdi, who has a special place in my heart although I have not seen him in almost four years. I am grateful that he studied Development Studies and Geography at the same time as me, sharing his expertise in the field of practical development. I am grateful that He granted me the friendship of my older Turkish companion too, who invited me to his home when I studied in Stirling and inspired me with his culture so that I prayed to Allah that He would be grant me a life like his, and lo He granted me a wife from that same land who prepares Turkish breakfast just like the one I tasted in that house in Scotland. And I am grateful to Allah for his immense signs, for although my friend had never met my wife, when he visited us in Ankara we discovered that he was a close friend of my wife’s closest friend. I am grateful to Allah for granting me bounties greater than I can measure. I am grateful that He granted me so many friendships throughout my years and throughout this land and others. I am grateful to my Lord for granting me the gift of faith. I am grateful to the Most Merciful for making me shy throughout my youth. I am grateful that He protected me from bringing harm upon myself. I am grateful that He placed in my heart the fear of my parents. I am grateful that He granted me warmth and gave me food. I am grateful that protected me from harm and has sustained my life long enough for me to begin to correct my conduct and start to purify my heart. I am grateful for the Letter of James. I am grateful to Allah that He inspired me to walk, walk, walk. I am grateful that He granted me my garden and the fruit trees within it. I am grateful for all these things and for so much more. I am grateful that He has granted me what wealth I have. I am grateful for the cheerful greeting of an old man I encountered in the street one morning. I am grateful for laughter and I am grateful for tears. I am grateful that Allah tested me in a way which made me appreciate his bounty. I am grateful that He makes my heart ache whenever I do wrong and that He causes tears to well up in my eyes when I stumble into sin. I am grateful that He sends critics to me who remind me of my shortcomings. I am grateful that I have a bowl of carrot and courgette soup waiting for me downstairs. I am grateful that He decrees that we receive two fresh trout and two bottles of milk every Monday, delivered straight to our door. I am grateful that blessing after blessing is bestowed on me despite myself and that Allah sends sign after sign, from the beauty of the dawn across the hill in the morning to the bright moon above us on a cloudless night. There is so much to be grateful for. I am grateful that Allah sent anonymous with his posting, which made me go off on a great tangent, giving thought to the beautiful chaffinch of all things, which made me think of the beauty of Allah’s creation, which made me think of his vast Mercy and Blessings bestowed upon us. I am grateful indeed. May Allah t’ala forgive me for every moment of sadness, for every moment spent with ingratitude. There is so much that Allah has poured upon me. I am truly grateful.

There is no strength except with Allah

It is now two years and a month since I was told that I could never have children. The news was broken by a Locum Doctor while my GP was on her summer holidays – he didn’t know much about the disorder, had to look it up in his medical encyclopaedia, then advised me to read up on it online. What a stupid idea that was; I Googled it, read disturbing descriptions about it and then became exceedingly paranoid. Was all that silence through the years due to this? Was I a bit slow because of this? Was my poor performance at school due to Learning Difficulties? Well no, for the past ten years I have always been honest about this; I was simply very lazy. Nevertheless, the paranoia remains; but it is nothing compared with the emotional pain.

We cancelled our travels that August because of its effect on us. Between us we shed tears; we would sit and read the Qur’an, making the supplications of Zachariah, who cried to his Lord for a child until He answered that prayer. As time went by, however, I began to come to terms with this news and accept it as the absolute truth; while my wife prayed daily, mine became occasional, for the doctors had convinced me of the futility, despite my knowledge that He who created me only needs to say “Be” for new life to come from nothing. Every time my old friends from university announced that they were now a father, my mind told me that I should be happy, but instead I felt sad. With every visit from my niece I had to hold back tears. It is pain like mourning; like losing someone. It is a loss, but others do not understand; life goes on as normal… “How’s the job search going?” “How’s work?” Perhaps these things are not important to me at the moment, perhaps I need some sympathy, some time out to mourn this loss of mine.

It is the pain of knowing that you have reached the end of the line, that you will be an ancestor for no one, that you will never have grandchildren who will ask you about your youth. Surely my family worried that I would raise my children in accordance with my faith, not theirs; but it was a dream of mine that they could trace their Muslim ancestry, that the English Muslim would not forever be viewed as the queer aberration that comes and goes with every conversion and death. Instead there is this pain.

Not long before we received this news I had a dream one night which troubled me. My wife often has what I would call spiritual dreams, but mine are non-descript meanderings of the mind. But this particular dream stood out and bothered me. A huge flood was overcoming me, its waves menacing and fierce, my resting place submerged. Somehow it prepared me for some devastating news and a difficult test. Without a doubt, these two years have been hard, but I have come to terms with it nevertheless.

Things change. From where does one find the strength when he learns that perhaps things are not as clear cut as he was told? In England we were told that the only way to have ‘our own’ children was through donor insemination, a course of action we would never take. But in Turkey where donor insemination is not practiced at all, research has advanced apace to help people in our situation have children of their own – and a good number of men with exactly my condition are now fathers, some to twins and triplets. The strain returns; now there is a possibility that we could have a child, but also the possibility that we will again be disappointed. The treatment running beyond our agreed leave, the strain grows again, the two of us fearing what will happen to our jobs. The financial and emotional burden grows and we wonder from where strength will come.

There have been so many times that I have read the phrase, “There is no strength except with Allah,” but sometimes we have to put advice into practice before we see the truth of something. To rely solely on your Creator is one of the most beautiful aspects of faith. Sleepless for four nights, wandering silently through the streets of Turkey, anxious about all of this, I did not know from where I would find the strength. Like so many times before I lamented that I am not strong enough for this. But instead, finding myself in beautiful mosques, I prayed. Suddenly the situation has altered, relief has come. Our employers were sympathetic, our financial situation okay, the high emotions lessened. It is true: there is no strength except with Allah, the Creator of us all.

The need to express gratitude

This morning my car wouldn’t start, so I had to call out the AA. It is funny how something foreign can become so familiar within such a short space of time, such that something we could once do without becomes something we take for granted. And it is funny how when something is always there, we don’t thank God for it as we do when something new comes along. We pray for safe travels when we go on holiday, and thank Him on our arrival; but the daily trip to work and back becomes a routine normality which we don’t thank Him for. We pray for sound employment, and thank Him when He responds; but we take our daily bread without the same words of thanks. We ask for good health when struck down with illness, and thank Him when we recover; but as we go about our everyday business in good health, do we forget to thank Him, who has power over all things?

When I first got the car I was wondering at all the blessings which God has bestowed on me. Now I get in the car in the morning, drive to work and park, failing to say, “All Praise is for God,” for this blessing. Just as I make my sandwiches at lunch time without saying, “Thank you Lord.” Just as I wake in the morning without thanking God for the opportunity of another day to better myself. Just as I write an e-mail without thanking God for giving me sight (and what an amazing thing that is). Just as I take so many things for granted and do not express my gratitude to the bestower of all things.

It reminds me of the words of a poet: “If my thanking God for His blessings is a blessing, then I must thank Him in the same measure again. How can one thank Him save by His grace as time goes on, and life goes by? If a good thing comes, I rejoice heartily; if a bad one comes, I receive a reward. In both cases He gives me a gift too large for the minds of men, and the land and sea.”

I think, today, I won’t moan about the frost killing my battery. I think I’ll thank God giving me time to reflect on His blessings. How perfect He is. How we fail to express the gratitude He deserves.