Splint

Amr was my husband, my confidant and my merciful and loving partner in life. After suddenly losing him, the loneliness I felt almost consumed me.

I was breathing a different kind of oxygen than everyone else. I was speaking a different language than friends and family. I had turned a different color, rusting and fading away. No one understood me and I understood no one. I may as well havebeen the only person on this earth.

Pain is alienating.

People often turn to skies in search for some sign, some comfort, some explosion of reason to help them understand the tragedies of life, saying: “Please help me understand. Help me relieve this pain.” When their request not immediately answered, they return to the quietude of themselves, disappointed and broken.

As a respond to this, I’ve often heard people say, “If you wonder where Allah is when you are going through pain, know that the teacher is always silent during the test.”

This statement has no merit. The truth is Allah has never been silent. He is not like the teacher who refuses to speak while the students are writing a stressful test. His words of guidance and healing are recorded in a Book that we can read any time we wish.

It is not He Who is silent. It is we who refuse to listen.

If we listened, we would know that Allah (swt) describe himself as al-Jabbar; the restorer, the Superb Comforter, the Healer of all wounds.

A word with the same Arabic root of “jabbar” is “jabeerah”, which is a splint that is used to set broken bones. Allah understands that sometimes we feel as though we are quite literally broken into pieces, troubled by rattling sounds of those loose parts within us as we walk forward in this existence. He is the only One who can restore what was once broken within us, transforming us so that our hearts are whole and sound again.

“Oh mankind, there has to come to you instruction from your Lord and healing for what is in the breasts and guidance and mercy for the believers.” (Surah Yunoos: ayah 57)

A Temporary Gift

(Reflections on Love, Loss and Healing)

by Asmaa Hussein 

Page 246-247