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Daanish Malik, Canada
I’m lucky. No, actually, I’m blessed. Depends on who you ask. I was born into a house which believed in a living God. A God that spoke and helped us when we needed Him. A God that answered us when we called to Him.
Growing up, both my parents helped me discover God. My mom showed me His loving side, one that was so caring and merciful. My dad on the other hand showed me God’s rational side, one that fulfilled his promises, one that could easily be found.
I still recall in my childhood being told to always look for God in all aspects of life. Whenever we were going on a trip somewhere, we would start with a prayer. If I was about to open a new phone, my parents would remind me to say Bismillah (In the name of Allah). My parents had a knack for always finding God in even the most inconspicuous of places and they urged me to do the same.
Once as a teenager, I was flying back home. The year just ended and I was excited to finally go back. Due to a myriad of flight cancellations the night before, I found myself running late, stuck in a line of thousands about to miss my flight. Frantically, I called my parents hoping to find support and guidance. Fortunately, they immediately picked up, but they reminded me that instead of wasting time on the phone, I should start reciting Durood Sharif (Sending salutations of peace upon the Holy Prophet Muhammad (sa)). Being stressed and confused, I complied. I hung up and began to pour my heart out in Durood. Another passenger who was running late kept begging the officers to let them through, but one officer who seemed to be in charge bluntly responded that ‘No one will cut this line today.’ Meanwhile I kept receiving messages from the airline that ‘boarding is closing soon.’
With each message, my stress exponentiated. After minutes of praying (which seemed like hours at the time), inexplicably, an officer called out and asked for any travellers with US Passports. My heart was teetering on the brink of eruption. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’ I thought to myself. I immediately flung my passport in the air. She then called us up one by one and escorted the handful of us past the line to a different security kiosk. I witnessed a line of literal thousands disappear in seconds. I knew that was God. After clearing the kiosk, I rushed to the plane and boarded right before closing. As soon as I sat down, I messaged my mom, ‘I got on the plane.’ All she replied was ‘Alhamdulillah’ (All praise belongs to Allah).
Incidents like this helped me find God as a teenager. But one incident from my childhood is forever etched into my mind. The story of the lost wallet. Although I was a witness to this story, it is best narrated by my father who experienced it first hand. He narrates:
‘It was Ramadan of 2015. We had recently moved to our new house and that year Ramadan fell in the summer, an especially hot summer. Having just moved, we were using the fridge which came with the house. A few days into the month, it began having problems. It took a few days but I realised the fridge was dying. Food kept getting spoiled. Being in the midst of Ramadan, we needed it fixed as soon as possible. So, I called my friend who worked in HVAC to see if he could diagnose the problem and repair it. In the first visit he wasn’t able to resolve the issue. So, he brought his son for the second time. But unfortunately, they were unsuccessful again. After six visits, on their seventh visit I remember coming home from work and seeing them working on it. I dropped my wallet and keys on the table and went to help them. At last, after days of working they were able to fix the fridge.
Later that night, after Iftar (breaking of the fast), I realised that I couldn’t find my wallet. I told my wife and kids to help me look for it, but to no avail. We began praying and searching, but after going through the entire house multiple times, it was nowhere to be found. I was getting worried; the wallet had my new driver’s license, all my credit cards, and some cash. It was getting late into the night, so with a heavy heart, I went to bed. I remember praying to Allah the Almighty fervently right before I slept. As I drifted into sleep, I had no idea that I would witness something incredible.
I immediately fell into a dream in which a booming, powerful voice was addressing me from some place far above. That great voice simply told me, ‘Your wallet is in the house.’ I immediately woke up. Confused and a bit scared, I go back to sleep. Again another dream begins but this time a jolt of courage soars through me and I feel like this is my opportunity to beseech God. I begin begging Allah, ‘Where is my wallet? I cannot find it.’ I keep asking Him and eventually that same striking voice declares, ‘It is in a small room’. Again, I woke up, but this time I was doused in sweat. I began to realise that God was listening to my prayers. Bewildered and helpless, I go back to sleep. After a few moments the third dream begins. This time I am once again seeking Allah, begging Him, ‘O my dear Allah where is my wallet? I need your help. I cannot find it without you.’ All of a sudden, I see a vision of a small rectangular box. I thought, ‘What is that?’ Then it dawns on me. The box is not just any box, it’s a drawer. A bathroom drawer.
I jump awake and realise it’s Sehri (pre-dawn meal to start the fast) time. I wanted a witness, someone to confirm that the wallet was exactly where I was shown it. I rush to the kitchen and find my mother-in-law. Ecstatic, I tell her to please come with me. Confused, she followed me to the small room mentioned in the dream, which I now knew to be a bathroom in our house. I go to the bathroom vanity and slide open the drawer. Lo and behold, my wallet is lying there. Speechless, all I can do is thank my Lord.’
At the time, I could not truly grasp what had just happened to my dad, but as I grew older and looked back, I was amazed at how God helped our family time and time again. Experiences like this are what engrave the love of God for not just my family but millions of Ahmadi Muslims (Muslims who have accepted Hazrat Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (as) as the Promised Messiah and Imam Mahdi) around the world. These stories of God help us when we need Him the most. Incidents of Him showering us with His divine love and mercy. We are fortunate to be witnesses to the fulfilment of his promise:
‘Or, Who answers the distressed person when he calls upon Him, and removes the evil, and makes you successors in the earth? Is there a God besides Allah? Little is it that you reflect.’ (27:63)
These experiences are not unique. Anyone who wants to seek God and strives to reach Him will reach Him. It’s not a matter of if you can reach God, but rather when you will reach Him.
‘Your remembrance is the key to resolving all difficulties.
Without You, everything that occurs in the mind is anguish for the heart.
Whomsoever cries unto You with humility.
Finds again his lost fortune.’ (Barahin e Ahmadiyya, Vol 1, page 22-23)
About the author: Daanish Malik is a student in Jamia Ahmadiyya Canada.
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