Struggle for Faith

Dear Fatima,

I have always believed in God, I have always believed in my religion. Before last year, my belief was strong and my heart clear of doubts. I am a science nerd, and I have always managed to see Allah’s beauty in science and the mysteries of the natural world.

In June of 2011, my paternal Grandmother fell in the bathroom and fractured her hip. She went through a scheduled operation and everything was well. A few days later, I awoke for Fajr prayer, and was in the middle of them when my phone started ringing. I ignored it, finished praying, and called back my Aunt in Pakistan. She informed me that my Dadi had passed away. This was the first time in my life I had lost a loved one, and the feeling was so intense and all encompassing, it threatened to obliterate my existence. I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t do anything but sit and cry. It was the worst feeling ever.

My dad was scheduled to fly out that morning, and he left me, my mother and my brother behind, as I couldn’t travel due to my exams. This was a Friday.

On Monday, I couldn’t sleep, and I received another phone call in the middle of the night. This time it was my maternal Grandmother, and she was in the hospital because she was having difficulty breathing. It wasn’t unusual for my Nano to be in the hospital, as she had been in and out of there for the past three years, suffering with ovarian cancer that had spread to the rest of the body. My mother has always flown out to Pakistan whenever my Nano’s cancer gets really bad. So at eight in the morning, I began looking on the internet for the next flight out of any airport in England to Pakistan. I managed to find one that was leaving in the evening of the same day and booked a seat for my mum. So she hurriedly packed and we headed into town, just to buy a few things…my Nano’s favourite sweets, a scarf, just little things that always cheered her up. My family were all trying to dissuade my mum from going to Pakistan, saying that it was selfish of her to leave her children behind. I understood that she had no other option.

We were standing at the bus stop when we got the call. She’d gone too.

It was a metaphorical truck that had ran us over. I literally couldn’t stand. The bus stop wasn’t one that had a bench so I just fell to the ground and sat there with the tears falling uncontrollably down my face. It felt so unfair that this had to happen to us, to me, to her. Why? I couldn’t understand why. I still can’t understand why.

The worst part is, I can’t get over it. I think it’s because I didn’t have the chance to see either of them before they died, but it’s more to do with the fact that I don’t understand what I did to deserve so much pain from Allah. I have begun to doubt my faith. I have begun to doubt His existence. I have begun to doubt myself.

My Nano and my Dadi had many more years ahead of them. My Dadi had already seen the marriages of her children, the birth of all her grandchildren and the marriages of some them, and the birth of her great grandchildren. But Nano was young. She still had to see the birth of my two baby cousins who were born two months apart after her death. She still had to see us graduate, see us get married, see us have children. This is what I begrudge Allah. Her presence at my graduation, at my wedding, at the birth of my children. My mum and my uncles and my aunt are all young, still. How is it fair to take her away from us?

She had been in an abusive relationship for more than fifty years. I won’t lie and say I love my Grandfather, I don’t. I have seen how he has treated her like dirt under his shoe. He has oppressed her, and he has shunned her and he has made her life a misery. He has physically, mentally and emotionally abused her. Had, actually, I should have said had. I keep forgetting. He refused to pay for her cancer treatment. She worked, it was all her money, but he kept it and refused to give it because she didn’t need the treatment according to him. He swore at her and accused her of unfaithfulness and adultery, and kept her locked up in the house when she was bedridden while he went gallivanting around the town.

So why was it, that such a vile man was allowed to remain on Earth, whilst she was taken away from us?

I don’t know whether I’m sinking further and further into depression because I haven’t actually talked to anyone about this – both my parents were upset enough as it was, and they didn’t need me to collapse on them too, someone needed to be strong – and I don’t know whether I need help of some sort.
I don’t know how to stop myself from hurting, I don’t know how to get my faith back. I think this is some sort of a trial from Allah, and if it is, then it is terribly cruel.

Please help me understand, thank you.

Dear Struggling with Faith,

Your question gets at the heart of a deep spiritual question that all religions have to deal with – why is there pain in a world that is supposed to be watched over by a Loving God?  You are experiencing this question in a very personal way and it is really painful.  Ultimately you will have to answer the question for yourself and it might take a while for you to figure it out.

Islam also deals with this question and to learn more, there is a lot of reading material out there under the category of “qadr” or “destiny” and its relationship to free will. There are are even a few verses in the Qur’an about it.

There some basic things that Muslims hold together to help us understand things we experience:

1. Allah (swt) is all of His attributes (in the 99 names and more) – that means that He is All Knowing, Wise, Merciful, AND the Avenger, the Strong etc.  A great book about the different qualities of Allah (swt) is Al-Ghazali’s book: The Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names of God.
2. Allah (swt) gave humans free will – the extent of our ability to exercise it has been debated, but if you look at the Qur’an there are verses that talk about how there are some people that make mischief on earth and others that enjoin good and forbid the wrong.  There are also verses that say that some people are checked by others (2:251; 22:40) and that is also part of Allah’s plan.
3. One of the things Muslims take on faith is the existence of the hereafter where injustices that occurred in this world are righted, and pain experienced in this world buys, by Allah’s mercy, an eternal existence in jannah.
4. There are countless stories in the Qur’an of how people before us experienced pain and how they dealt with that.  Similarly reading the life of the Prophet and the things he experienced will also provide some examples of how one deals with pain and finds a way to live from one’s better self.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this, is an answer that each person has to come up with — finding our own personal responsibility for certain things and trusting Allah (swt) in others and opening ourselves up to figuring out what doing ihsaan (striving for perfection) in each situation means.

It is clear that you were deeply affected by the lives and deaths of your two grandmothers – how can you use those experiences and your struggle with figuring this out to contribute to the good in the world and become one of those people who enjoin good and forbid the wrong?  It’s only with people of conscience standing together that we can start movements against injustice here in this world – such as domestic violence and child abuse.  How else were laws and services developed to protect and help victims and prosecute aggressors?  At the same time, we wouldn’t take our anger out on individuals like your grandfather by attacking him outside the law.  Why? because that action has the potential of causing injustice as either we or those who follow our example could go further in punishing the other than they deserve.  So our responsibility is righting society and making sure that our contributions to society are from our best selves as much as possible.  We know that we won’t change the world, but nudge the parts we have influence on in a better direction.  So it’s in the aakhirah that where we fell short will be righted by Allah (swt).

I want to speak to another point that you mentioned in your post: it seems like you are deeply attuned to those you love.  Your heart is connected with them – and Allah (swt) says in the Qur’an 2:154 that those who pass away are alive though we perceive it not.  I missed my grandmother terribly when my wedding came up and I went to visit her grave a few weeks before to talk to her and tell her about my then fiancee.  As I spoke, the smell of jasmine filled the air and I looked around to see if someone had arrived with flowers.  Nobody and no flowers were anywhere in sight.  When I told the story to my mother and aunt who was visiting, they told me that jasmine is the flower they would decorate the house with during weddings.  So I believe she was there, and is there watching me as I go through all the milestones in my life.  So live your life in the spirit of their beauty and not only will they live on through you, but they will see how you honor your connection with them.

-Fatima FM