I love messages that target those ‘practising’ Muslims amongst us. Those of us who think all is ok, and then we’re hit by words that makes us think twice. It reminds us that the battle with Shaytan is never over, until after the very last breath of life.

by Mariam from the blog “The Seventeen”

Cute Hijabs, matching tight pants, perfectly manicured hands drumming restlessly to the beat of the latest Nasheed pop;
Nice rides, sipping café lattes, halaqas embraced in the depths of cozy rooms, speaking of distant dreams and privileged existences.
Do we know the real struggle?
ISNA club, throngs of fans milling air conditioned convention halls, pop star speakers glimmer in the spot light, beckoning distant hearts to spirituality and deeper lives; chastising in that “oh so mesmerizing voice”; as the crowd yells a deep bass “Takbir” followed by shrills of “Allahu Akbar”…
Do we really comprehend the Greatness of our Creator?
Trekking the globe in search of meaning, disenchanted existences within treasure filled homes, dreams of substance blocked by trivial minds; apathy radiates in different colors; squeezing potential out of our beings like deep soaked sponges inflated by muddy waters;
Can meaning seep into a suffocated heart?
Following zigzag paths of nothingness; in search of “Deen” or “the other half of my Deen” whatever comes first. So we step in style, mouthfuls of “Subhana Allah ”; gleeful “Mashaallah”; echoing from empty hearts frenzied by empty lives.
Scratching the surface of submission; echoing lines from distant lives; dreams of greatness shelved away; as we pander our “Proud to Be Muslim” shirts; cheap prices for cheaper wares.
Pardon my jaded writing…perhaps I forgot the subtle depths of this struggle; as I begin to still the meaningless symbols clanging in my heart;
Please remind me:
Do rays of the Divine
ever
illuminate
these
darkened
c o r n e r s ?