Acceptance

I think my wife is better at keeping her feet on the ground than I am. I tend to spend a lot of time thinking, “What if?” or “If only.” But she would just say, “Khayr!

If I’m feeling grumpy, discontented with my job, she will be there doing mental arithmetic, calculating how much money we’ve saved on fuel over the past decade. If I’m dreaming of a larger house, her eyes will be on the garden and the view across the valley. It goes on like this.

As for everything that happened before we met: well, of course, she would say that every decision and event was leading to our paths converging. So khayr again. Hers is the stronger faith, more accepting of whatever is decreed for us.

My acceptance is more grudging. I know I need to work on this. To be more like those whose faith grants them that sense of serene resigned contentment with the decree of our Lord, once the foremost character of the Muslims. That’s a better kind of faith.

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