My Journey

Saturday, June 11, 2016

No matter what I am feeling, someone out there is probably feeling the same way as I am too. Or worse. For that, I am telling you my story. Not in a way that puts others down, not in a way that will benefit me, but in a way that tells you how I bounce back up. "Kalau mama dan papa tak ada, Amalia boleh ke jaga diri sendiri? Kuatkan semangat. Amalia bangkit semula. Tunjukkan yang Amalia boleh bangun semula. Amalia ada pilihan. Mama tak ada." (from previous post) Yes, Mama. Thank you for those words. It was as if you knew what's about to come.

In 2014, I lost my job. My CPF wasn't constant for a year (or more) and none of the employees noticed the lack of money deposited into our CPF until much later. That year, I was released from a job I had for 3-4 years. Within that week, my late mother was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Let's keep it at that because after my Facing Death post, I haven't found the courage to talk about it. I'd cry in front of close friends when I had to retell the story. I'd like to take it positively. With me losing my job, My family was able to declare my dad as the sole breadwinner. We then had financial support. With the nice clothes and condominium, nobody knew right?

I had a job months after that. It was temporary because I had to take care of my late mum at home. My brother was serving his NS, my dad could not afford anymore leaves. Most of his leaves were used for chemo trips, check-ups and hospital visits.

I wore the tudung because as I was buying the shawls for my late mum, I tried them in front of her too. She said, "Manis kakak pakai tudung. Pakailah." To make her smile, to make her proud of me, I wore my very first tudung. It was green. It was Sahara Shawl. It was a cavalli snood.

After cancer took her life away, I thought I knew the true meaning of redha. There's more.

In 2015, four months after my mother's death. I was tested again. For those who followed me from the start, you'd have known what happened. Or guessed. I was ripped out of my 'engaged' status. Alhamdulillah. I was filled with vengeance, disappointment, hatred and again, I thought I knew the meaning of redha. I thought to hate was the key to moving on. It helped to a certain extent but I wasn't contented. I was constantly seeking for an answer. There was something I felt I needed to do to feed that anger. I kept asking Allah, "Why?" Astaghfirullah. How dare me! I had little conversations with Allah. "What else?! What do you want from me? Who and what else are you going to take away from me?"

The piece of cloth on my head wasn't enough. It was as though He was guiding me. I came across this doa.

At that point of time, my dad was encouraging me to zikir to keep me saint. I was crying all night and zikir helped. It went on an auto play on youtube and doa Prophet Yunus was played. I haven't started praying then. Just zikir.

With this doa, I understood some things. Prophet Yunus turned to Allah when he was devoured by a whale because only Allah could help him. He asked for Allah's forgiveness because whatever happened to him was a result of his wrongdoing. So... how dare I questioned Allah when I hadn't acknowledged my mistakes?

Somehow, I was drawn to books with Islamic teachings and zikir from youtube. I picked up the praying mat without knowing what was I really doing. I knew how to pray, I remembered the steps but was that even enough? It's okay, I did it anyway. As long as it kept me at peace. In an interview I did with an ustaz, he advised to seek knowledge. "Iqra," he said. Most of my friends praised me for being strong. I was calm at most situations. How? I started listening to my favourite zikir. I never stopped reciting or playing it each morning.

I know. You might have heard this when Syamsul Yusof recited this in an attempt to get rid of the iblis. No, this is not Munafik. My heart was filled with exultant joy because I understood what the actor was reciting.

I was faced with people telling me that my changes were just temporary. Some questioned my attempt to the mosque or religious classes. Remember when I said I was filled with vengeance? I gave myself to Allah, trusted Him and told myself that whatever happened, Allah is enough. Let Him be my witness. I recited that doa every single day. Slowly, I understood. Yes, Allah is sufficient.

Shortly after, I was offered a job as a TV Producer. Slowly, everything was placed nicely. I was still angry, I was still coping with the loss of my mother. How could anyone be so heartless? How could others escape from their wrongdoing and I was left mending my own heart? Whatever I was going through, I asked Allah to get rid of my anger and pain. I asked Him to get rid of this wrath. I asked Him to give me strength to be forgiving. I asked for so much yet I was the one with many weaknesses. See how merciful our God is?

Again, it was as if He was answering my prayers. I was led to meet people who would speak to me. In a lecture by an ustazah, she mentioned a hadith.

That answered it all. Nevermind about others. I needed to work on myself, not others. To forgive, I needed to be sincere. I did something out of sincerity (will not elaborate). Suddenly, I wasn't angry. Once I became sincere, everything else did not matter. Now, that is redha. I hope I got it right this time. This journey made me realize how He pulled me back to Him. For that, I am grateful.

I am leaving you with my favourite paragraphs from Reclaim Your Heart by Yasmin Mogahed. Pardon me if I am giving you a culture shock with this post. Haha! Till my next post!


Amalia on falia.and.amz

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