Trying to make sense of it all

My son was hit by a car on the night before we were due to leave for Dallas, where I hoped to receive the medical treatment I've put off for eleven years.

My husband and I spent last night at the hospital where we anxiously waited for our son to wake up from surgery and helped him get through the pain.

I have had my moments of frustration.

But. . .

my son only suffered from a broken leg. It could have been much worse.

he's thirteen years old. He's still my baby, but he's not tiny anymore. I saw tiny children and their parents in the hospital.

if we had left on Saturday something worse may have happened. All day Friday I had premonitions.

he will get better, by the will of Allah. In six weeks, the doctor said, his leg will be as strong as ever.

I'm still trying to get to Dallas. Both my mother and my oldest son have offered to come back into town and take care of my younger kids while I'm gone. So I think I will get there eventually.

And I've waited eleven years. What's a couple more weeks?

I believe there is meaning in everything, but I still don't understand why this happened. Maybe I don't need to know.

Why Muslims Always Say Insha Allah or The Best Laid Plans. . .

Last Thursday I mentioned I would be going away. Everything was ready. I had made a list of things to do before the trip, carefully checking off each completed task. Clothes, snacks for the car, medicines, toiletries, camera. . .We were good to go.

We planned to take off on Saturday morning. Until I received a phone call on Friday night. The caller introduced himself--he was from the Milwaukee Country Sheriff''s office. Then he said he was calling about Salahuddin, my 13-year old son. He encouraged me not to panic but, well, my son had been hit by a car. But don't worry, he said. He just hurt his leg a little.

We rushed to the scene. Salahuddin was strapped to a gurney, ready to be taken by ambulance. He was alert and in good spirits. I rode with him in the ambulance.

About thirty-six hours later, give or take, we brought him back home--his right leg encased in plaster from foot to thigh. He's sitting in a wheelchair as I type--though he did learn how to use crutches. Did I mention the trip to Dallas was off?

We need to take him back to the hospital tomorrow for surgery on his leg. I hate the thought of them cutting into him while he lies unconscious. But it's necessary. He's 13 years old and I want his leg to heal so he can run, jump and ride his bike again--well, not his old bike. That's what he was on when he was hit.

I'm anxiously waiting until tomorrow. I want him to be fixed--but I wish there was another way. I want everything to be back to normal. That won't happen for a long time yet.

And I want to go to Dallas. Oh well.

Alhamdulilah. Allah knows best.

Maybe I'll see you there!

We're getting ready to leave on a three-week vacation to Dallas and surrounding areas. If you live in the region, you may want to attend the conference at the end of this month. I'll have a booth there with my books. Including the newly republished Echoes.

Or if you live in the northeast you may want to go to the conference in Hartford. Same weekend. You'll find my books there too.

Summer is a great time to get out of the house and go exploring.

Enjoy!

Apology accepted

The Marine who produced the "humorous" web piece about killing Iraqis has apologized and pulled the piece off the web.

That's all we need in this world. The willingness to admit when we're wrong.

Just Testing

When I became a Muslim I realized there was a great gap between the world-view I had grown up with and the one I had just adopted. Many of the values are the same--love, respect, honor. But the methods are different and, consequently, so are the attitudes.

Prayer is one example. I grew up learning prayer was good. When I became a Muslim I began a formal system of prayer, with regular times and dictated movements. A very different approach.

Views of life and death are even more different. In the American--not necessarily the Christian--viewpoint, life is to be enjoyed to its fullest. Death is to be avoided. For Muslims, life is a test and death is another phase of our existence.

Machiavelli, who unfortunately typifies the current American attitude, stated the end justifies the means.

For Muslims, it's not the end which counts--it's the means. Allah determines our end result. What's important is how we get there. Honestly or dishonestly. Through hard work or laziness. With kindness or cruelty.

If you don't believe, you depend on yourself. But if you believe in a Creator, you realize you can depend on Him. Do your best and leave the rest.

Life is important. But it's just a test.

Of Marines and Hadjis

Reports continue to trickle in. First there was Haditha. Then more reports of massacres in different Iraqi cities. And in spite of all the spinning and posturing it's obvious civilian life doesn't mean much to the U.S. military. Not Iraqi civilian life.

When Zarqawi was allegedly killed (there are many possibilities beyond the official story but I don't want to get into them now), women and children also died. They are a mere footnote to the gloating of American officials over this "victory in the war on terror." They are not American, not Christian, not white. Their lives don't matter.

Reports are coming in of an internet video in which a Marine boasts, while others cheer, of his murder of Iraqi girls. They are the enemy. They don't matter.

U.S. soldiers refer to Iraqi Muslims as "hadjis." This terms of respect, referring to one who has completed the difficult ritual of hajj, has become a term of insult. Yet another example of the perversion of the official American mindset when it comes to Muslims.

I am a native-born American citizen and I expect to be treated with dignity and respect. I am also a Muslim, and often I wonder how long it will be before Muslims in this country are treated with the same level of disrespect shown Muslims in other countries--by the U.S. military and their Zionist allies.

Life, liberty, pursuit of happiness. Nice words. And it shouldn't stop there. How can the American government justify the murder of Iraqi civilians and yet defend the lives of Americans? How can fundamentalist Christians insist on imposing their worldview on the rest of us? And why is it that white skin is still more highly valued? (I'm white, and sometimes ashamed of it.)

A hadji is someone who deserves respect. A civilian is someone who deserves to live. And peace does not come from waging war.

Natural disasters

I haven't forgotten the Indonesian earthquake which has killed nearly 6000 people so far. But it seems that the American media has.

I went to Jogjakarta once. It was a nice city, and very friendly. I keep wondering about the people I met there. How are they now?

It's so much to take in. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, volcanoes, flooding, wildfires. And a major tsunami. The body counts add up. The destruction is usually beyond imagination. Lives are torn apart. We sit at home and watch it all on the news, grateful we were spared. Until our time comes.

Some debate about the meaning of these disasters. A punishment from God. A test from God. Or merely a natural occurence.

What is certain is the suffering. The survivors are left to cry, mourn and pick up the pieces.

We can do more than be grateful it hasn't happened to us this time. We can contribute money and resources. And we can pray.

Hurricane season started today. The majority believe the government is not ready for another onslaught.

Ready or not.