Insha’Allah‘ is a word I heard growing up from the Muslims I interacted with who were either friends of my family, school or college mates and later colleagues.

It’s a lovely word that means ‘if God so wills it’.  And yet, it’s not a word that has any fatalistic tones to it. Rather, it’s an affirmation of faith in a God who always work for our good.

Incidentally, that’s the kind of God I believe in. An all-loving God who works in ways we may not always fathom, but who knows what we need. But let me qualify that.

It’s easy to blame the world’s problems on God. A recent post by Danny Brown, one of the most inspiring bloggers I know, quotes a ‘Christian’ who talked about the refugee crisis being one of the unfathomable acts of God! Really? We take and take from the Earth. We plunder and loot her resources. We attack other nations for flimsy reasons. We torture, rape and kill those whose notions of faith and God are different from our own. And yet, we conveniently blame it on God.

No. That just doesn’t sit right with me.

The God I believe in wants us to get off our butt and do something brave with our lives. He challenges us to move out of our comfort zones. He pushes us to reach out to others in kindness.

And when we have done all we can, then we have the right to say, ‘Insha’Allah’.

inshaallah
Let me share this poem from Danusha Lameris

I don’t know when it slipped into my speech
that soft word meaning, “if God wills it.”
Insha’Allah I will see you next summer.
The baby will come in spring, insha’Allah.
Insha’Allah this year we will have enough rain.

So many plans I’ve laid have unraveled
easily as braids beneath my mother’s quick fingers.

Every language must have a word for this.
A word our grandmothers uttered
under their breath as they pinned the whites, soaked in lemon, hung them to dry in the sun, or peeled potatoes, dropping the discarded skins into a bowl.

Our sons will return next month, insha’Allah. Insha’Allah this war will end, soon. Insha’Allah the rice will be enough to last through winter.

How lightly we learn to hold hope,
as if it were an animal that could turn around
and bite your hand. And still we carry it
the way a mother would, carefully,
from one day to the next.

Let us act positively and hope actively!

I’m linking in to Write Tribe’s #MondayMusings today.

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Pic credit : Deviant Art

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