Baby, Ramadan, and Epiphany

Well, well, well, look who decided to blog! After a long hiatus I have come to the conclusion that I need to blog. This is my outlet. My writing is my salvation. Far before "blogging" was the craze, I had wrote poetry and journals. This is what I do.

Ramadan. Ramadan was great. I did not fast because I am nursing and am exempt. However Muslims who do not fast are obligated to feed a person for ever fast day missed. I kept pretty busy preparing meals for my family and the fasters at the Masjid (but mostly for my husband, who of course does not count in my 30 feedings. I was just attempting to be a good wife.) Lots of studying and no TV for the most part was beneficial. Ramadan is a time of worship, reflection, and repentance for over 1 billion Muslims around the world.

Baby. Ruki would be the main reason I have not blogged in three months. She has become so demanding. I found myself down at times during Ramadan because while my husband was studying, I was just trying to catch up with our daughter, whether it was a feeding, a mouth inspection (she eats everything!) or just trying to entertain the little monster. In Ramadans past, I would usually go to the park and stay for hours just reading the Quran or some type of educational literature. Now I can barely put aside the time to pray, much less read.

Epiphany. One day at masjid when everyone was praying and I was nursing my Ruki in the back, I realized that I had missed the point. I looked at my wonderful daughter and realized that she is my little blessing and taking care of her will increase my faith, not diminish it. Before doing many day to day things, Muslims say a short prayer, "In the name of Allah, Most merciful, Most Beneficent." I learned that God is a loving and forgiving God.

The Prophet Muhammad said, "Paradise lies at the feet of the mother". With this, I understand that being a mother is a great responsibility and privilege that is not bestowed upon every woman. Now I must go because my eight month old is screaming and crying to get out her high chair!

THERE IS A GOD!!!!

As I nurse my beautiful 5 month old daughter, I think to myself, wow, how is this possible? You know . . . all of it, the whole thing. How is it that I can be the sole source of nourishment for another human being? But it's not just nursing; it's the love. How is it that I have developed a love for this crying, spitting, screaming, pooping little person? And not just any love, an unexplainable, impenetrable, everlasting love. I mean I would give my life for her without giving a second thought, but perhaps more importantly, she makes me want to live my life better. She makes me feel like I have to do better for myself- spiritually, financially, and academically- for the sake of her. Why do us mothers- and many fathers- have these feelings? I mean, okay she grew inside of me for nine months, but so what?

I think the miracle of childbirth continues far beyond those strenuous hours of labor. Sometimes I will look over at her and she is just gazing into my eyes, far longer than any teenie bopper couple trumped with infatuation. THIS IS LOVE. THIS IS GOD. It is moments like that when I know with complete certainty that there is a God. An All-Knowing, Most Beneficent, Most Gracious God. Who else could have created this love that surely no human could even fathom before they experience it for themselves.