'' Our Lord ! grant us good in this world and good in the hereafter and save us from the torment of the Fire '' [Ameen]
-
{in Arab} :->
Rabbanaa aatinaa fid-dunyaa hasanatan wafil aakhirati hasanatan waqinaa 'athaaban-naar/-
(Surah Al-Baqarah ,verse 201)
Share 
except by permission of Allaah at a decree determined..{ ]Quran 3:145[
The eternity we all wish for, Muslim or Non-Muslim, is everlasting
life in Heaven, Paradise, the Garden of Eden, the Blue Yonder,
whatever you want to call it, with its beauty, splendor, ease, and
closeness to the Divine Light of our Creator, but who is willing to
make sure that the lilt of their voice is recognized when they are
lying amongst white sheets with tubes fixed, cloudy eyes staring,
barely able to lift a finger to make the Shahadah, doctors and nurses
rushing around in their futile dealings, all those involved anxiously
awaiting the inevitable moment.
Which beliefs will bring you comfort at that intersection of life and
extinction? The belief that this is it and there is no more? Can you
really reconcile your fleeting lifetime to this thought, and not feel
that your life had no meaning? We are warned that if we are not ready
for death, if our connection to this lifetime is too strong, that at
that precise moment when we need Allaah, we might end up pushing Him
away in blinding fright, clawing at the shreds of lifetime we recall
in our stupor of death. This scenario could result in an eternity; I
will say it again, an eternity of punishment in Hell }definition -
)i-tur-ni-tee( adj 1. infinite time, past or future 2. the endless
period of life after death{. You know, fire hotter than any 70 fires
in the lifetime, smoke, ash, boiling fluids to drink... alright,
alright, I'll leave the rest to your lively imagination.
My point is, who will you call upon and expect an answer? How can you
call on Allaah when He doesn't recognize the sound of your voice? How
late is too late?
To feed my ever-constant yearning for tidbits on our earthly
departure, I stayed up recently, way past my bedtime, to watch a
documentary about death. They showed a series of people who were close
to death, young and old, and how the living around them reacted to
their slow weaning off of this life. There was a current of palpable
dread coming through the TV directly into my living room as the
families surrounded their loved ones, struggling with their own
mortality. The patients' faces were white, frozen, mouth drooping
open, with no strength left, the muscles no longer willing to obey the
commands of the brain to pull the jaw closed, unaware of the clamor
around them, stripped bare, as all is peeled away at death. It was
then that I realized that these valiant attempts to heal were for the
living, and that those passing on were fighting a whole different
battle. They looked calm on the outside, but we are told that they are
in turmoil, agony, at the time of death.
Where is the line between living and dying? Does the spirit know
before the body does? Let's stop right now to see how fine a line this
is. Take a minute and hold your hand over your mouth and nose, letting
no air in or out. Okay, now hold it...hold it... hold it.... there,
now breathe—ahhh that wonderful elixir of existence. That was a small
taste of death; the simple, but complex tightrope we walk every day.
The fact that we have life speaks to something vivid that must fade,
like calico patterns left to bleach in the sun. No one wants to die;
Allaah chooses who lives and dies and this is written before we are
born. The critical point is not when, but how you die. Will it be the
good, peaceful death, being eased out of your shell like a drop of
water from a jug, eager to meet your Lord, or the reluctant passage
out, being yanked, kicking and screaming, like a swatch of wool being
pulled from a thorny branch, in paralyzing fear of Divine retribution?
I know which one I am going to work for in the time allotted to me.
In my very early years as a Muslim, I had a brother die in his sleep.
He was only 50 years old at the time; and, unaware of his imminent
fate, went to bed and never woke up. That sobering event had a
profound effect on me, and put me on a quest to learn all I could
about the "destroyer of pleasures." After that time, I never missed my
prayers before sleep. Whether Allaah gives us a long illness with
purification and a chance to make amends, or He takes us suddenly like
my brother, we need to be ready. I realized then that no matter who
you are or what you own, at that precise moment of death, it is
between you and your Lord. We have all heard the Prophetic saying that
three things follow you to your grave; your family, your possessions,
and your deeds. The first two come back, leaving only your deeds to
speak to how you lived your life, but do we really internalize this
and live it every moment? Ask anyone who has had a car accident how
quickly lives can change—it's an instant, and we must be ready with
good works and remembrance of Allaah waiting for us in our personal
`Ethereal Bank'.
For Muslims born into the religion, this will be your reality also.
You are not immune to the trappings of death and its suffering and
there are no guarantees on that day. For converts to this beautiful
religion, do you want your non-Muslim families making your decisions
for you at that moment, or the strength of your Lord lovingly watching
over you because He knew your pleading voice in the lifetime. For
non-Muslims, the Mercy of our Creator is given to all on Earth until
death, and then it is reserved for those who believed and called on
Him at all times.
If these words caused a ripple in the folds of your heart, then take
time right now to connect to the Merciful, the Compassionate One... He
is waiting for you.
