By His Mercy, you are liberated from having to secure outcomes in the world. Ultimately, if you measure success or failure by means of outcomes, you have entered a lottery that only sporadically pays out. It is purely His Mercy, otherwise understood as ‘good fortune’, that delivers the ending you desire. Your task is to interact with the universe in an appropriate manner in accordance with the knowledge that you currently have. To do so is a victory regardless of the consequent outcome. You must play the role He has assigned for you with sincerity and honesty. That is far easier said than done. We rarely truly know ourselves. We seldom complete the prerequisite inner-examinations required to make authentic, liberated decisions. The human being is a mine laced with explosives, toxins, and daunting boulders that discourage further exploration. But persist we must. Embark on the path of inner-transformation. Dig deep into the soul, shining light into corners darkened by egoic greed and self-interest. Treat the moment as an experiment. Analyse the situation He is presenting to you carefully, exploring every facet, seeking out the Divine Message that is often not immediately apparent. Evaluate the options available to you. Consult with those who know. Seek the support of the Divine. Then, act in the interests of the other, not the self. Your sincerity will ensure the decision results in consequences that were Willed in Pre-Eternity. Things may not turn out as you had hoped, but they always end in the manner He Knows to be best. Relax. It is all under control. Just not yours.
In contrast to the long summer days that have defined Ramadan in the West for the last few years, my first experience of the blessed month was ( mercifully ) during the British winter, with the sunset prayer no later than 16:30. As a second year university student, I was still familiarising myself with both Islam and living away from my parents, and so my Ramadan diet combined biriyani iftars in the local mosque with occasional late night trips to the nearest fried chicken shop to curtail midnight hunger pains. A Muslim friend, Barbar, would knock on my dormitory door thirty minutes before the dawn prayer, and insist I share the food he had readied ( usually a reheated Pakistani dish prepared by his mother, accompanied by a few slices of bread ) . Another friend, Ali, perhaps inspired by my conversion, utilised the learning process I was undertaking as a chance to gain more knowledge about his faith, and would frequently come to pick me up from my dormitory in ord
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