How do two people, who have never met, see each other only twice and know they will spend the next twenty years together as husband and wife? What are the odds? Is it called Love at First Sight? Problem was, I did not love my husband when I first met him.
Squeeze me?
Nope. Not one ounce of loving. But we had a magnetic attraction to each other that was undeniable. It was not lust but a silent affirmation of our bond. As you know, I allowed you to embark on my journey and experience the signs as I did. My husband concedes that the only two signs for him were the events he saw me at, although he vaguely remembers me at the Ontario Science Center. However, without any doubt, he knew when he officially met me on that fateful Sunday tea gathering, that I was the one. He still is unable to explain it today. He did not receive signs from dead mothers, birds or lightening strikes but he knew they happened to guide me to him. My spirituality evolved. His was already intact. We were drawn together by unseen forces. I was learning about it while he already accepted his lot in life. Fate or coincidence?
After meeting him, I was told by a religious friend to pray early in the morning and ask Him if this was the right person for me. What? Ask God? She smiled slowly and told me of a prayer that was performed in the depths of the night, a few hours before sunrise. It was to be prayed during a time when sleep was at its heaviest and getting up to perform ablution with the prayer, required a degree of difficulty.
"When everyone is asleep, only He is listening. He asks the angels, “Who, out of all My servants, has awoken to prostrate in front of Me and pray for answers?"
I was intrigued by this prayer but at the same time, embarrassingly skeptical. Despite all the signs He had showed me, I dared to question if this nighttime prayer would make any difference.
After meeting him the second time at his house, I was obviously unsure about him. My siblings offered no insight to me about his personality. We sat together, in his house, as a group, talking about various topics. I knew we were trying too hard to impress each other. He came off cocky and arrogant. I came off as guarded and skeptical. My father did not ask me anything. He would drive there and back without comment. I was confused and unsure. We met again at our home. I cooked dinner and bit my nails while they sat eating and talking. My father had to slap my knee under the table several times to remind me to remove my fingers from my mouth. I was so nervous about impressing them. When I told this to my brother, he grinned from ear to ear, like the geeky computer nerd he was. "You like him! I know you. If you didn't, you would not care. You only aim to please when you care!" I wanted to punch him right there and then but for my baby brother, he was years ahead in wisdom and maturity.
After meeting him the third time, his mother pulled me in the corner of their dining room as I set the table, ready to pounce. "Are you going to marry my son?" she asked with wide eyes. I was taken aback. I did not know the protocol but I did know that the decision had to be made between the parents. The father must obtain consent from his daughter before moving forward with the boy's parents. This is obligatory in Islam. If you have read anywhere that a woman is forced into marriage, this has been the result of a cultural imposition. A woman’s consent is paramount.
I turned to his mother and revealed that I had yet to give consent to my father. She frowned and shrugged her shoulders. The clock was ticking and I knew I could not wait.
So I decided to perform the prayer, Ishtakhara--the prayer of Guidance. I prayed that night after experiencing his mother’s brief interrogation. Everyone was in a heavy slumber. I woke to my alarm at 4am. The prayer required no bias. I could not go into this act with a predisposition in my head. I had to empty my mind and let it take me where God willed. I found out, later in my marriage, my husband, incredulously performed the same prayer as well.
As I sat before Him, I felt peace. Months of anguish beforehand seemed to dissipate and I felt my mind become clear. Even though I was meeting him and his family, I carried a sense of dread with me since I called off the engagement. But that night, I felt relaxed, free and unperturbed. I was not sure of the process but I tried to make asking as casual and comfortable as possible. Is he the one? Am I meant to be with him for the rest of my life? Will it work? Give me one sign. There was a strangeness associated with asking these questions – I had neglected prayer after my mother died because I was offered no explanation why she was taken away. It took many months to come to the point of having one on one conversations with God but as a result of the signs leading me to meeting my future husband, I finally was comfortable that I would get my answer.
I guess it was Faith. If I did not believe, then I would not see the signs. For that one night, my sign was contentment. Something I had not felt for one full year before then. And that was enough to push me through.
Truly with hardship comes ease. (Surat al-Inshirah: 5-6)
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