Mas Elizawati Mohammad Ali

Growing up, I came to believe that anything wrong happening in someone’s life must be a result of a misdeed which he or she had partaken in. That something ‘wrong’ can be a loss of any kind, be it an employment, a family member, a healthy life or the overriding happy feeling. Like, when a person lost a family member, he must have done something grave to receive such a punishment. Or when I got a bad grade in my exam (despite studying hard), it must be because God is angry with me for being disobedient and disgraceful. Everyone must be at their best behaviour in order to avoid His wrath.
My almost fatalistic and downright pessimistic view on reward-versus-punishment, however, turned upside down when I was informed of my late mother’s failing health. When you are a confused 13-year-old kid, there’s only so much you could digest before leaving the rest to the adults to manage on their own. Back then I knew something was wrong with my mom’s kidney, but the details were at best hazy. I vividly remember it was the first time ever that my mother was not sleeping together with us in our Shah Alam house.

During her absence, my sisters and I slept en masse on a mattress on the floor of my parents’ room, with my dad and my young brother dozing off on the bed. I recall waking in the middle of the night, searching and quietly crying for my mom who was hospitalised for her deteriorating renal condition. At that point, I wondered to myself as to why bad things happen to good folks like my own mother. She was a caring and doting person, putting others’ need first than hers. Perhaps, she had pushed herself over the limit to please other people, much to her detriment.
My question remained unanswered throughout much of my adolescent years and thereafter in college. The fact that an ustadh in my residential school practically scared the non-hijabis into donning a hijab – wear now or you’ll be in hell! – left me skeptical and confirmed my suspicion about sinning and its consequences. Despite knowing about there is no compulsion in Islam, people’s inconsistent attitude towards religion confounded me. Post-college, I struggled with some issues regarding my faith when life’s tribulations left me sad, envious and weary.
Ultimately and fortunately, I still have the good sense of knowing that pleasing God is the most important agenda in life. I really don’t know how the realisation finally set in. How I grasped at the answer to my question: good-versus-bad people and their outcome in life. It must have been a progressive understanding over a period of time.
From reading online articles and exposing myself to the English materials on Islam. I know God is just (‘Adl). I had just forgotten how merciful God is! He is Ar-Rahman and Ar-Raheem, after all. I began to understand that life itself is a test. It is up to us to make the best of it according to His rules, to overcome the test and to prepare ourselves for the next journey into the Hereafter.
The test is never to break you. It is to make you stronger. And always, always believe that Allah won’t burden us more than we can bear. And that after undergoing a hardship, there is always relief. It is never about why bad thing happens to good people, or vice-versa. God tests His servants, ever since the beginning of Adam.

For instance, my life now is a far cry from what it used to be more than five years ago. There were times when I asked why the challenges are so overwhelming, and yet, I am reassured of Allah’s promise that a hardship always follows by relief. As long as I remain steadfast and resourceful, His help is close at hand.
We have to also bear in mind, that through suffering or pain, the likelihood is higher that our sins will be expiated. So never take lightly the prick of the finger, or the sudden thud on your toe (as long as they are not self-inflicted!). Indeed, Allah takes into account all that we do.
Another thing that I learned though is that a trial that you now undergo, might be a result of a past’s bad behaviour. In a way, my first naive notion about punishment is true. But instead of looking it through a mirror of a wrathful God when I was younger, I see it now through an image of a merciful and wise God.
This trial will aid in cleansing some (if not, all) of the bad deeds. It is also God’s way of giving us a chance to be reflective and realise the missteps we might have trodden to become distant from Him. I have accepted that not everything that I love is good for me and something which I hate is actually good for me. Allah knows best after all.
That is, at least, my comprehension following some soul-searching and epiphany through Islamic-related writings and lectures. Anything lacking is entirely my fault as my knowledge is sporadic and limited to the teachings of renowned Muslim scholars whom I have oftentimes the privilege of reading and listening.

As for any students going through an existential crisis, my advice is to seek help and guidance from trustworthy, knowledgeable and nonjudgmental grownups and peers who can steer them to the right path. Having questions and doubts is a normal part of growing up and students shouldn’t be shamed for voicing their concerns. That line of communication must always be open in order to gain their trust and confidence.
Embattled with my own personal conflicts, the vastly different worldview that I have now about Islam has helped me in making headway where acceptance and spiritual growth are concerned. While people’s flaws – whether real or imagined – can bring you down and affect ‘your momentum’, they shouldn’t and mustn’t dictate how you are going to live (and leave) your life today. Make the best of it!