“Some have found God in the depth of their sins.”
This sentence has been carved on the walls of my soil heart ever since it met my eyes a few days ago. It’s amusing how everything black in these words pave way for everything white – how The Almighty still sends the magical rays of hope through the wrecks in one’s soul. It makes me feel like the feeble most being on this planet yet the sturdiest creature alive when I come to think of this fact that maybe, somehow, even in this hollow of evil, I still have hope that God will find me, and I, will find Him.
Ever wondered how close He is to us, yet how far we are to Him?
Ungrateful little beings, who were made with the purest and finest of elements by the best Creator in the best of forms, sent on diverging roads to travel, provided with a will that’s free and a guide to help us through, we chose all the forbidden lanes and thought the journey has no end until we realized how effortlessly vulnerable we are, despite all our strengths. At every stepping stone where we stumbled, we were saved by His endless mercy. Do you even ponder on how He is always there to bless us without even asking? His compassion and love knows no limits, no conditions, no margins.
Someone dear to my heart once told me that if you want to get close to God, talk to Him. Talk to Him like you talk to a friend- rant, vent-out, complain, weep, laugh, share secrets and go for every little gesture you’d do for a friend. That’s how you will get closer to Him. Once you’re friends with Him (unrelatedly to the fact that He is always there for you), you’ll start doing things that He likes. Just like you ignore things which a dear friend doesn’t like, and put in extra efforts to make a pal happy, give in and give up your actions for Him, to make Him happy, and see the difference for yourself. He, as a friend, won’t let you down. And you, as a flawed mortal, would also develop a habit of sharing things to the only source that shall guard you in every way possible.
I was a firm practitioner of this notion till I got lost somewhere on the highway to hell.
Lately, I had gone through major changes in my life.
Over 6 months ago, back in September, I started off a journey to my lalaland where I was under a false belief that I had my invisibility cloak on. I have always been scared of dreaming big, always shut down and overruled by the society’s tags, but back then, I planned on going for a stupid little dream which I was getting a chance to turn to the truth. Under the yolo spell, I went up for it just to find myself as the happiest misfit in the new planet.
I have always been a giver.
Those who know me know my mantra for life,
“Give respect, get respect.”
I’ve always believed that respect is far superior to love and that is the best gift you can give to anyone.
Following my concrete theories, I went on practicing it and found myself to be the most blessed of all. I got respect from the most unexpected of sources and radiated positivity wherever I went. My new planet was my new home, until I met a few unfortunate incidents that lauded me with a bunch of lessons.
For all that I learnt, there’s one thing I’d stick to in the future-
Sometimes, it’s okay to be judgmental.
Yes, people are fighting their own battles and we never know what hides beneath the skin and flesh, but when there is a roaring lion right in front of you, it’s wise to stay afar.
Constantly brewing in fear, regret, disappointment and getting an unceasing radio therapy of negative vibes, I realized my spirit was bruised- badly. My demons had consumed me and all I had in my empty palms was just a WHY against the Supreme Power. From the liveliest soul you could spot I had turned into the living dead. That’s when I came across this beautiful piece by Yasmin Mogahed- which hit me like a sign, and alongside, God sent various other clues to help me get out of the cage. Here, here’s what she says;
“We must also realize that nothing happens without a purpose. Nothing. Not even broken hearts. Not even pain. That broken heart and that pain are lessons and signs for us. They are warnings that something is wrong. They are warnings that we need to make a change. Just like the pain of being burned is what warns us to remove our hand from the fire, emotional pain warns us that we need to make an internal change. That we need to detach. Pain is a form of forced detachment. Like the loved one who hurts you again and again and again, the more dunya hurts us, the more we inevitably detach from it. The more we inevitably stop loving it.”
Detachment. There lied the answer!
I had to plan an escape. I stood for my right and down the road, figured out that people who’ll be your actual true support systems in dire times of need would only be ready to rip you off when they spot you at your frail most. Bruised and not yet scarred (which means healing is still in process), I managed to scrap off a few masks as I left. The pain was immense since the outcome was what I had never even iimagined in the wildest of my dreams.
“Like icebergs, people normally expose only a small part of themselves, and generally just the part they wish to show.”
I think some people are better off with their masks on. Saves the entire universe from so much misery. At the same time, a part of me is an advocate of the spread-love-it-cures-all-pain theory and wants to see people all bare and broken- in their own beautiful ways.
Please tell me the latter clan is of no good; at least I shouldn’t be a part of it. It has taken me a great deal of courage and trauma and supernatural help from The Almighty to find a way out of the maze I had gladly gotten myself lost in.
Now that I am no more caged, let me feel the wind against my wings. Let me feel what freedom feels like, ‘coz a butterfly whose wings have been touched, will now show you how flawlessly she flies!