They Transformed My Life

This is the continuation of my blog titled "A precious lesson of Faith".

16 days after the death of their beloved son, finally his mortal remains reached home from Europe. The long wait had made them tired and weak, but they pulled through, thanks to the very supportive family. The couple's brothers and sisters and their kids had come from other states and abroad.

The sight of the huge 6 feet long wooden coffin sent by the French Government with his name and date of birth and death embossed in golden letters and a crescent moon just below it, occupied the hall of their apartment. Profound grief filled the place. Though no one was wailing or weeping loud, silence echoed too loud that one couldn't bear. A small glass piece kept on the lid was the only way to see him, that too just his face. My heart broke thinking of the torment that our friends were going through and I stood there helpless failing to console myself. My words and strength vanished and I needed consolation.

I was led by a girl to meet the mother. All I could was to cling to her and break down. Then I heard her voice in my ears, "Thank God that he came home and it is from here that he goes." I received those words from her and slowly understood what she meant. I looked at her. She wasn't shivering anymore and she wasn't broken. Her sister told me gently, "she's fine."

She sat near her son, her husband stood brave enough to honour the guests, and the younger son took care of all the arrangements. And then, it was time to bid Adieu. Silent tears ran like rivers breaking every heart. Consoling each other, they stood, holding on to each other, also holding each other. Prayers alone were heard and he was gone. In a few seconds around 20 ladies from the family and I remained there.

Through the silence, an elderly lady cried so bitterly hugging the mother. To her, the mother said calmly through her tears, "I am not crying. Why should you? Didn't he come home for all of us to see him?" Once again perfect calmness set in and they went to their rooms quietly. I sat in room with the mother, her sister and a few relatives. I was pondering over her words and the way she stood through the pain. Things were beyond my comprehension and my expectations; they were too powerful and profound. I looked at the mother who lost her darling son who was so attached to her. Her dried lips moved in incessant prayers. This was something very new to me. I sat there lost in thoughts, still not able to swallow the day's events.

Then came the memory of another lady who lost her son, a dear son, when he was 33. A mother who witnessed people lashing and whipping her dear son, spitting on his face, nailing his disfigured body to the cross, dying in a loud cry. A mother who walked along with the son with bleeding heart and tears of agony. A mother who never said a word against God or men to stop his son's fate as she knew that it was the will of God. A mother who carried him in her womb according to the will of God and let him in the hands of death, surrendering to the will of God. A mother who never questioned the will of God even when her son’s body was laid on her lap. Mother Mary, the mother of Jesus.

Through their silence everyone continued praying. After a while I saw them all getting ready for prayer. One by one they got ready after cleaning themselves and no one, even the mother was exempted. Sitting alone in the room, listening to the Arabic prayers that continued for a while in the hall, I became so curious to know what possibly one could pray at such a time of sorrow.

They came back after the prayer and I found them very calm and serene. During our conversation I told the mother, "I've heard of Mother Mary, but today I saw a mother who stands humble before the will of God, though her heart is breaking of the loss." She thanked me. I continued, "You have a beautiful religion and the way you practice it in your time of brokenness and the strength that you derive out of those prayers, I truly admire." They smiled gently and again thanked me. Hesitantly, I asked her niece, if I may know what they prayed. Her words were as cute as she is; seriously, responsibly, she explained it all to me. She told me, "First we glorified God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth and everything between them, the One who is responsible for all the things happening in both Heaven and Earth and between them. And we surrender ourselves to His will as His will is above all that happens everywhere. Then we thank Him for all that happens under His will and finally we make our petitions to Him. Today we asked Him to receive our brother to Heaven and his soul may find mercy from God to enter Heaven, and also that any sin that he might have committed may be forgiven through God’s mercy." (Sorry if I left out something.) Also she explained their way of mourning. Prophet Mohammed who himself lost his son, has taught them that it is allowed to release their emotions during the first three days, but in a dignified way that will not question the will of God, and then to pray for the departed soul to rest in peace in Heaven." Well, I could understand all that she told me in her beautiful language and style and she left me astonished by the depth of those words.

I was also overwhelmed by the way they gave attention to the grieving mother and took care of her and also the way they continued with their individual prayers for the soul, in the faith that the number of prayers that they say will help the soul reach its destination and find its resting place.

During the short conversation that I had with the mother, I learned that she is not supposed to rewind the past and live in those memories, but has to move on focusing the future. Also I learned that their religion teaches them to surrender to the will of God at all times and are supposed to obey that commandment.

Till evening I was there with them in that room and all their conversations were in a low, dignified voice and many times I heard the phrase 'Insha' Allah (If God wills) if they spoke anything that had to be done in future.

I was consoled that our friends have very loving and caring family members around and they all in unison surrendered to the will of God and their focus wasn't on their fate, rather on the departed soul's safe journey.

I felt extremely happy for them, their religion and the way they practice it. If I were a lost soul without any religion to practice, surely I would've considered accepting their religion. I knew that I belong to a similar religion, that started from the same origin, through the father of Faith called Abraham. God blessed both the sons of Abraham to multiply as nations. Through Isaac’s descendants Christianity was found and through Ishmael, Islam was found.

I felt that my religion preaches more than it is practiced and that they practice more than they preach. As I always used to challenge myself and others who think that their religion is better than the rest, to prove it through practice.

So there it was proven, the walk of Faith, and power of Faith. I imagined how I would've handled a similar crisis and what impression I would've made on others about my faith and religion.

Though I went there to be an emotional support to them, I stood once again at the receiving end, defeated, but with a determination to change the way of my thinking and views and ways of life.

Reaching back home, till this day I had only one interest. I searched and searched to find the prayers for the dying and the dead, the way to pray and to mourn and I am so grateful to God that there are similar ways in Christianity to follow in similar situations. I became confident and hopeful of practicing my religion in all situations of life.

My admiration for ‘Insha' Allah’ was so high that I searched in the internet for an equivalent in Christianity. My search was fruitful as I found out that it is written in the Holy Bible, James chapter 4, verses 13 - 15; " Now listen to me, you that say ‘Today or tomorrow we will travel to a certain city, where we will stay a year and go into business and make a lot of money.' You don't even know what your life tomorrow will be! You are like a puff of smoke, which disappears for a moment and then disappears. What you should say is this: "If the Lord is willing, we will live and do this or that."

I was shocked. My religion teaches it, but I never knew it and I had never seen anyone who practiced it either. 

Thanks to the people who showed me the strength and purpose that the religion makes in our lives and thanks to God Almighty for making me witness their wonderful way of practice and its results. 

Theirs is a wound that may not heal or a pain that may not fade. But surly they will be carried through life under the wings of Almighty God and they will find comfort under His will.

And I will continue my walk in Faith, hoping for the will of God to happen in my life and to receive whatever happens as the will of God and surrender myself completely to His will.

The Bible says these things:

“To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see."

"We live by faith, not by sight."

"Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

My Muslim friends taught me the lesson of life through their deeds, not their words. And because of them I am a better Christian now. If God willing, I will preach my religion through practice.

May the dear departed soul rest in peace in Heaven.

You can read the 1st part of this blog (search on the right, under 'My Posts') in the blog titled 'A precious lesson of Faith'