Battling with the Divine......
" To battle my son's autism, I went to the holiest place I knew and prayed, forgetting everything else. "Please God, cure him." But I was the one who cured-of my inability to trust the divine.
My son's autism first led me to lose my faith, then inspired me to let Allah help me so I could help my son.
My mother would tell me stories of our Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), whose four infant sons died, to remind me that even Allah’s most beloved suffered. She tried to impress upon me that, yes, our situation was bad, but it could be so much worse. She tried so hard to help us out of love for us and her grandson.
But at that time, all of the "comforting" words of faith felt like daggers in my heart. Both my husband’s family and mine are devout Muslims, true to their faith. They raised us to be Muslims first and everything else second. But this autism diagnosis, this cruel, cruel trick played on my son, shattered my faith.
I decided to throw myself and my son into therapy and try to handle autism myself, without Allah's help. It was November, 2003—the month of Ramadan by the Islamic calendar. I fasted , but it didnt mean anything to me.
I gradually gave up my five daily prayers, or sometimes said them half-heartedly. I had so little faith in Allah by then.
But over the next two years, I began to feel that I had to reconnect with Islam and Allah. If I cut faith out of my life completely, then I knew eventually autism would beat my family and me. Living a life full of therapy and without a larger sense of purpose was draining me. And I needed to be a whole person, connected with my faith, so that I could be the mother my children needed me to be.
I thought a lot, I cried a lot, and fought with Allah a lot. Then I decided to go for Hajj , the once in a lifetime pilgrimage, to Mecca and Medina required of all Muslims. I went in January, 2005 with my husband. I went to fulfill my obligation to Allah, and to find my faith.
I came away from that experience with the feeling that when you finally accept your fate, you can embrace your life. And then you can actually celebrate and thank God for giving that fate to you.
Our lives are so much better now. Islam is actually more a part of me than it was before my son was born. We all realize now how truly lucky and blessed we are to have our son. And we feel equally blessed to have our daughter, who is not autistic.
It’s not easy, of course. I still fight with Allah all the time. On occasion, my faith does weaken: When my son is going though a difficult period, I still blame Allah. I beseech Him. I get angry with Him, and then I turn to Him again. Finally, finally, I understand what my parents and in-laws were saying all along--that Allah, indeed, has some purpose for our son. That realization doesn’t cure autism, but it sure helps me help my son to fight it.
Allah inspires me, and He has graciously given me this great kid for inspiration as well. "
Truely inspring read...my kinda reading theraphy.!