I know my ingratitude has been on full display in my writing the past year or so. It is inexcusable really, but such is the nature of the melancholy which descends on me so regularly. It makes me completely irrational, despite blessings all around me.
This morning, I have been looking back on the photos taken during the same period of time, and of course they only affirm how unjust I have been, minimising all of the blessings and ease granted us. Photos of our wanders in open countryside, of meals out as a family, of day trips and holidays, of visits of friends and family, of our place here and there.
What reason do I possibly have to justify such ingratitude? Absolutely none at all. How unjust I have been, yearning for what others have, when what we have already been granted is more than enough for us. How unjust I have been, wallowing in self-pity, when all around us is evidence that life has been very kind to us.
May God forgive me for my ingratitude, and make me of those who are truly grateful, who utter shukr with their tongues and affirm it in their hearts. May God set me on a better course, grant me a truer faith, and make me of those who give thanks — who really mean it when we say, alhamdulilah!
Last modified: 7 January 2023
