Some Things Have To Be Believed To Be Seen- The Not So Ramadan, Ramadan Post

Confession of The Month:

Few really believe. The most only believe that they believe or even make believe. And I was among those who believed in belief as opposed to just believing. So here I was coming off of a summer vacation turned burden, ending with more issues than I began, and a steadily declining faith in everything, even myself.

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For those of you waiting in anticipation for my less than desirable reasoning as to the long gaps in posting here it is: life. I know, shocker but life happens. Between dealing with new personal commitments, anxiety/stress disorders, and a developing eating disorder, sometimes blogging is the last thing I have the energy to worry about. But, none of that is what this post is about. This post is about updating and optimism despite the personal struggles within.

Way back when I still believed that hearts are magnets and people cared about other people I also believed in me. But, lately belief, like my self-confidence, is ever fleeting and far too determinant upon others for survival. And there lies the problem. In my final bow to summer I accepted a position as a counselor at a camp designed for Muslim youth. So many times before I had been the camper, the dependent, the follower. I was secure in that role, having little responsibility with much freedom. But, this time was different. I was surrounded with girls ranging in age from 10-12, all looking towards me for guidance. But, how could I be their guide, their leader, their role model? How could I be everything they wanted, when there wasn't enough of me for what I needed? They'd call me pretty, or hot, smart and funny. But, all of it made me want to cry, at best. And then it was time to swim. The boys were sent off to archery, as the remaining camp of girls donned their swim attire. Some were dressed more freely than others but, all of them were gorgeous. All of them but, one.

I was that one. But, not because I didn't have the potential the others did...rather because I didn't allow that potential to escape. I created excuses at meal times, and acted as though I didn't hear compliments, I would sleep with my journal, terrified of writing what I truly felt. A friend of mine would text occasionally trying to convince me that he would love me, if I let him. And it was then that I realized I could love me too, if I let me.

Often I would make the girls go to bed early because I didn't want to face me while I was awake. When it came time for prayers I would wait till they slept and pray separately, afraid of the power of prayers, knowing I might have to face myself. Finally, I was discovered. One of the younger girls woke up and sat there so still watching me in the night, terrified of praying, terrified of eating, terrified of being. And so she climbed down off the top bunk and sat near me. For minutes, time stood still. Then she spoke, "it didn't promise to be easy..." Shocked at the words I asked, "what, what didn't promise to be easy?" "Life," she says. Life never promised to be easy. I sat thinking, wondering, how she knew that I stopped believing in the life I was creating. She admitted to reading parts of my journal, I had forgotten I jokingly said she could. She also admitted that she liked it, she liked feeling like she was "important." Important, I asked her, what gave her that notion that when I felt like I was failing at everything I was becoming, that of all things I was important. "Because, because at least your something."

Her words hit like daggers, piercing my heart, forcing me to consider that even at my very worst I was someones very best. There's far more to the story. It involves writing love notes in the rain, dancing when no one's watching, and crying while praying. But, Brianna's words are more important that any of those.I have to believe in my own ability to trust in God's ability to help me overcome the personal tribulations which threaten my very existence.

And then came Ramadan.Ramadan is the month of fasting, which is observed by Muslims worldwide, in the 9th month of the Islamic calender. It's among one of the holiest and most spiritually profound within the Islamic culture, as Muslims believe it is the time in which the prophet received revelation of the Quran from God. Ramadan is an opportunity never to be wasted. Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.

"Verily, Allah does not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves."

[Ar-Ra`d, 11]

So my Ramadan resolution is simple: Create a month worthy of repetition. I can not change everything that I am in one month but, He can. And so,I ask God/Allah not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders.