If a test comes your way, it’s meant to change you. That’s what I believe.
There was a version of me who existed before the test – before cancer came and stole my peace of mind – and there was a different version of me who exited the test on the other side. Most surely I changed. But if I take my mind back to the beginning, not the beginning of cancer, but the beginning of significant change, then I’m amazed to find that my transformation didn’t start with a test. It started with a blessing.
For you to understand me better, I’m going to introduce you to the version of me who existed a long time ago. The child and young adult who had quite a reputation for leaving people speechless…and not in a good way.
I was argumentative in my younger days, believing that my opinion on any subject was always right, and I would argue and debate with anyone who disagreed with me. And so, after high school, it came as no surprise to those who knew me when I decided to study law.
I was in my thirties when I secured a job as an arbitrator. My key role was to help parties settle their disagreements with each other, amicably. And if they refused to settle willingly, I would listen to each side’s evidence and then judge between them.
The first few years of work was great, I enjoyed the challenge. And then, slowly, things started to change.
It was wonderful when I could reconcile between the parties and everyone was happy. And it wasn’t bad if I had to make a decision and it was clear which of them was right and which of them was wrong. But the problem crept in when I had to make a decision, and I myself wasn’t sure.
I found that judging some of the cases left me feeling uneasy. I started battling with my conscience – how sure was I that I had made a fair decision and that I had not been unjust to anyone? Could I face my Creator with a clear conscience?
The cases where I was unsure became increasingly difficult and stressful for me. I remember a colleague of mine giving me silly advice on how to de-stress: after getting home, take a shower and imagine the water washing away all the negativity of the day. It worked initially… maybe. But as time crept on, I found that a shower could not compete with a conscience that was growing and awakening.
So what had changed? What had caused the joy of the challenge to fade and the restlessness to grow?
“Did you then think that We created you without purpose, and that you would not be brought back to Us (for account)?” [Qur’an 23:115]
My manual on how to navigate life – my Qur’an – kept on reminding me that a day would come when I would have to stand before Allah (SWT) and answer for everything that I had done. As Prophet Muhammad (SAW) said: “… worship Allah (SWT) as if you see Him, and if you do not see Him, then know that He sees you”.
I was a student of Qur’an who still had a lot to learn, but what I did know was this: Hell sounded really, really, really unpleasant, and I wanted to avoid it if I could.
I had contemplated on resigning a long while before Yaseen became ill, but had procrastinated because I had no idea what I would do to earn a living afterwards. But Yaseen’s illness became a catalyst for change. Around eight months after Yaseen was diagnosed, I made the bold decision to resign from work. I took a leap of faith, with no other job lined up and no financial security, except for the savings I had accumulated.
This savings, that was meant to sponsor a cruise ship holiday around Europe for me and my boys, was now going to have to sustain me for as long as I was without work. But peace of mind superseded any holiday. And having my Lord be pleased with me, especially when I needed His help most, superseded everything.
Honestly, Qur’an changed my life. Trying to understand Qur’an, changed my life. It was my blessing, a lifeline on days that were so dark, I never imagined I would face such days.
But even on those days when I was weak and cried a stream of tears, Allah (SWT) would remind me that I was not alone.
With a chapter of the Qur’an named “Yaseen” that comforted me, Allah (SWT) reminded me of this. And when my single teardrop fell onto a page of the Qur’an as I was reciting and landed on the name of my Lord, Rabb, Allah (SWT) reminded me of this.
So now I’m reminding you. And I’d like to do this with a story that I read which illustrates a beautiful point. Whether the story is true, Allah (SWT) knows best. But I love the story and its lesson, so I’m sharing it with you.
A Christian priest once challenged Shah Abdul Aziz (May Allah SWT have mercy on him), “Throw your Qur’aan into a fire and I will throw the Bible into a fire. Whichever of the two does not burn is the truth.” The priest had applied a special substance to the Bible beforehand which would not allow it to burn. Shah Abdul Aziz was a man of exemplary faith. He was not in the least afraid of the challenge. He said to the priest, “No. You take the Bible and jump into the fire. I will take the Qur’aan and jump into the fire. Whoever emerges safely is on the path of truth.” The priest was left astounded and promptly left. [Taken from ‘Inspired by the Qur’aan’]
I suspect that Shah Abdul Aziz might have understood then, what I am coming to understand now. That learning about the Qur’an isn’t so much learning about the Book, as it is learning about the Author. And trusting in the Qur’an isn’t so much trusting in the Book, as it is about trusting in the Author.
My teacher once mentioned something that stuck with me: The Qur’an is your answer sheet, it is the answer sheet to all the tests in life. Allah (SWT) gives you this answer sheet, even before He hands you the test. So then…what is our excuse for failing?