Trying to Hold on to Islam

This morning started off with this beautiful moment..caught perfectly. I made the mistake of sharing it in a Muslim women's group and my happy morning went south. "Astugfirallah" was the reaction (May God forgive). As far as I know children are not held responsible yet for performing the 5 daily prayers..and therefore are not sinning or required to seek forgiveness. And everyone with a kid knows..when they see a camera it's hammy time! I deleted the post right away.I didn't even want to argue. I am past the point of arguing. Past the point of caring almost..but not quite there yet. I shouldn't care really...I shouldn't let it get to me. More and more I feel like I am NOT one of "them" and they are pushing me away and out so why do I insist that I am? Every joy is a HARAM, every day I work I am HARAM, watching a movie with my daughter... HARAM..laughing out loud..HARAM. Can i breathe? Can I smile? Can I see beauty without condemning it? Can one moment of pure, unfiltered joy in the giggle and peace sign flash of a little boy just be OK???

I am finding it so hard to reconcile my life...who I am..how I feel..how I love...how I live..with this version of Islam that requires me to be someone different than who I am. Different than who God made me. I am STRUGGLING to hold on to Islam. STRUGGLING. And moments like these I am really just at a loss for how and why this religion is so incredibly difficult,When it was NOT supposed to be. But then again..that's according to the Islam I know...which apparently is wrong...so who knows? People around here are a lot more interested in being extreme and righteous and "pious" to give any time or effort into building a community with kuffars. Even the group of converts we have cannot seem to make building a community or safe space for us a priority..so why am I trying? Why do I care? I find myself in this position all the time. Questioning why am I doing this? I don't question my faith in God,or in His oneness and omnipotence, I don't question Judgement Day, I don't question Quran...but I question what it is to BE a Muslim. I question whether this is really the path I am wanting to go down...because it just doesn't feel right.

Enjoining good, Forbidding Evil

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" Enjoining the good and forbidding evil means that we must take an active interest in our communities, and in striving to develop our communities and our religious practices in a way that is healthy, natural, and allows Muslims from all backgrounds to be included and non-Muslims to feel welcome."-

This is an awesome article...really addresses a subject that personally I think is a huge problem in the community. Personally I have experienced BEYOND my share of being told how wrong I am, or being looked down on because I do not wear hijab (this is my favorite one to be judged on because it AMAZES me how a piece of cloth gives the illusion one is a good and perfect person, which we all know is RIDICULOUS....), judged before given a chance, and ignored once someone in the community finds out that someone else in the community doesn't like me. And in the end, the only ones hurt were the ones we were supposed to work together to help, and ourselves by NOT going forward with good deeds for the sake of Allah (swt), and instead turning from what our religion teaches, to become the jerk that our religion warns us against being.
So for those of you who have not even given me a chance, or dropped out of a project we were supposed to do because you heard something about me, or dislike that I tell my non-muslim family Merry Christmas, or think I am scandalous because I do not wear hijab (I have never said that I am NOT going to , I am just not there yet, and getting crap for it only seems to delay the wanting to don it full time...yes I know this is MY ego being a jerk) or feel superior to me because you have been blessed with the "true" Islam...You need to take a step back and remember your religion. Maybe I am not as horrible as you think, and maybe those things you were told about me by someone else, are not true. And if you keep treating me and others this way, we won't EVER be able to get along, or work together. ONE UMMAH. Not my Ummah and your Ummah, OUR UMMAH.




Being Religious Without Being a Jerk

Short Anwer to the Question

    I have neglected this blog, neglected my email (so bad), neglected my facebook (turns out not to be so bad), neglected my friends (bad) and neglected what little social life I had, but it has all taken it's toll and it's time to snap out of the fog and get back to earth. The last 5 or 6 months have been kinda wacky, and I am sure the wackiness will still abound for the next few more, and I am just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. Right? Anyway....back on track, I have been asked a few times the last couple months about my conversion and I realize I still have not answered the question here so I should just get down to it. Why did I convert? What about Islam made me choose this as my path? Well, in short I can single out 2 most major reasons above all else (though there are a lot more).
     First, my inherent belief in ONE God, with no others like Him, and certainly no human equal. This is the most important for me. ONE GOD. That's it, the end, buh-bye. Pretty simple concept.
      Second, that one God is the only judge of me. The only judge of my actions, the only judge of my intentions and the only possible being that could ever truly know my heart. There is no one between me and God and no one  I have to go through to reach Him. My relationship with Him is close and personal and real.
      For now, that's my short answer to the Question. There really is lot more and deeper and meaningful things about the process that I really will discuss but in short this is it. Oh wait...I can add something else you might think is just lame but whatever...#3) I didn't have to give up Jesus. (PBUH). Best part for me. Silly to you maybe, but my attachment to Jesus was just not something that could have been undone. Though I never thought he was a God, or like God...I knew he was a real man and that he existed and that he brought  a beautiful message with him. He was a man we could model ourselves after in order to be better people. To convert to Islam, did not mean abandoning my faith or love in Jesus. And that was HUGE for me. 

Where From Here?

I'm not exactly sure where to go from my last post. I shared a little bit of my history in regards to my love of all things Arab.You know a little now about where and when I started to learn about what Islam really was. So maybe I should explain my history with my own religious upbringing before I get too far into talking about Islam. So here goes...
      I know I was baptized at St. John's Catholic Church on 16th and Ajo in Tucson Arizona when I was a very tiny baby. My Nina (Godmother) had made my dress, I still have it today...so tiny and white and satiny and lacey with a little white bonnet. I remember going to church when I was little, but when I was 8 we moved to Indonesia and there was no church where we lived. None. But my Mom had married a Southern Baptist (who I don't think is or was ever religious) and we were Catholic so church sort of faded out for me and my Mom anyway. So for a couple of years I had no religious training or church, or anything that touched on religion. Islam was a part of my daily life, but I didn't really know it. It felt more cultural to me, like it was the way of the place I lived and not the way of a group of people who subscribed to the same religious philosophy.
      When we moved back to the US, my Mom immediately put me into CCD (Catechism) and I had to go through my First Holy Communion ( I was kind of old to be doing it but since we weren't here...) as soon as possible. My Mom took me to church most Sundays. She didn't ever really talk to me about religion. When she did she definitely had more the philosophy of a Wiccan than a Catholic. I never quite knew what to think about my mother and religion. The only thing that seemed accurately Catholic about her was the fact that she was your Catholic Schoolgirl Bad Girl ( GO MOM!!!). She went to Catholic school through 8th grade and was always in trouble for her skirt being too short, or some other awful offense. She talked back, she rolled eyes, she was a brat. But as an adult, and a mother, she was free spirit...still is. She says she is a catholic but she believes in much deeper, kinder philosophies than that of the Catholic Church. She is at odds with most of it's policies, has mostly always been and probably always will be. In fact, As I got older and grew familiar with the rituals of my church, I realized that though my Mom came to church and participated, she did not take communion. Not once ever in my life have I seen her take communion. I asked her about this once and she told me that since she had me out of wedlock and had committed a mortal sin, she was banned from taking communion until she confessed and was forgiven for her great sin. She then told me that she would NEVER apologize, much less seek anyone's damned forgiveness for having me. She said the church could kiss her ass. She would never take communion again gladly. That moment made me love her even more than I already did. My strong, tough, rebellious and righteous mother. And even though they did this too her, I really grew to love my church. The more I went, the more I fell in love with the sounds, the rituals, the prayers, the smell of the incense and the comfort of the known process, and the talk about Jesus (pbuh). I loved to hear about Jesus( pbuh) There was quite awhile in my life when I thought I wanted to be a nun. But I wanted kids and a family...I couldn't be a nun. But I did love my religion and my church with a passion. Then one day, my Mom said she was done. She said she had done her job, taken me to church and raised me as a Catholic, and now if I wanted to go to church I could, but she was done.
      I went myself sometimes, not as often as with her. I tried to study my religion on my own and I started to get a little confused. The older I got, the more I started to think about things like Exactly why DID Jesus (pbuh) die for our sins? HOW exactly does that tie in? How is it that that worked? When I asked in class...I was kind of just blown off after awhile, and sometimes I could tell my questions were getting frustrating so I would stop asking things. but I could really not ever reconcile (still can't) how that made sense. I had a hard time with Jesus (pbuh) being the literal son of God and God Himself. this was perhaps my biggest problem to make sense of. I felt in my heart that Jesus (pbuh) was sent by God, he did have a message, he was special and important and deserves respect but I have always, always, always sensed that God was just one. One entity, all-powerful, all-knowing, omnipotent and singular. I also started to get confused about worshiping only God, yet praying to other Saints and asking for things through Jesus (pbuh) and getting forgiven by a man in a robe for my sins. It didn't seem to fit. I couldn't make it make sense to me. But I still went to church. Reed ( for those of you that know him) used to go with me. We planned on having a large Catholic Family if ya can believe it! At the time my faith was so strong, it was easy to overlook my questions and problems and chalk it up to archaic ritual and old school values. My love of Jesus (pbuh) and my love of God was more important than "little" details.
      As I got older still, and had been jaded by life experiences (Reed's suicide), I began to step back a little and examine my religion. My loss of faith in the church was definitely helped along by a professor of mine...Fred Bustamante. He was amazing, and very scary to a religious and gullible little Catholic girl who has always believed what the church has told her. His class was the beginning of the end...but it would take years for the clutches of the Catholic church to loosen their grip on me. He began by talking about the Bible...the various translations..certain words that may or may not have been translated correctly or have 5 very different meanings that could potentially change the whole sentence. The translations back and forth again, the Hebrew words that don't translate at all...the many versions and edits and things that have been taken out and added. I was shocked. I was young and didn't really know anything but his stuff was powerful. He then moved on through the politics of the church, the beginnings of the papacy and the will of the church to rule all of Europe etc etc. I had no choice but to step back and look at things. Examine what I had been told, and believed, but then look at what new ideas and evidence I had been presented. I was disturbed...but still I thought that for the most part...the church must be right.
      After my semester with Bustamante, things in my life started directing me to where I am now. My love of Jesus (pbuh) started to lead me to my discovery of the events in Palestine...and the crushing things taking place against my beloved Arab people (still Islam had not entered my mind when I thought of Arabs and the Middle East) and so that issue became rooted deep in my heart. I somehow thought there was truth (and I still believe this) out there somewhere...Palestine, Jordan, Syria, Iraq...there is more truth out there. And since I knew my church confused me, but Jesus (pbuh) didn't, I thought if I could follow him, where he lived, preached, walked, sat, breathed and died...I could maybe find that truth...or at least find my own truth and contribute to the wonder of others. So I chose religion as a major.Which leads me now to my first class on Islam, but I am so tired I am going to have to stop here for tonight. I'm so glad tomorrow is Saturday!!! This is the second day of fasting for Ramadan and it really isn't too bad. I feel good and happy, even if I am alone. It's kinda nice to hear the quiet. Anyway...until tomorrow....Goodnight world. XOXO