Repentance

Yahya Abdul Rahman- Jan 26, 2007

It appears to me that sin makes a lot of promises that it cannot keep, nor has any intention of keeping. Prior to committing the sin, the sin will appear to be quite alluring, holding out the promise of delivering some general satisfaction and that if I fail to act upon it I am missing out on something very special.

So, like a fool looking for fulfillment in some undefinable phantom, I succumb to the wily temptations which are thrown in front of me. Yet sometimes I know in advance I am being suckered into doing it and that I will be sorry afterwards.

For a very brief moment I become like a drunkard, losing all my senses, devoid of
all clear thinking, reeling to and fro with no sense of direction. For a suspended moment in time the sin will actually provide a certain amount of pleasure and sense of satisfaction. But soon, sometimes almost immediately, a feeling of both emptiness and regret overcomes me. I feel sick at heart and am burdened down with a great weight. In addition, it almost appears that my sin sits back from a distance and mocks me for me weakness and stupidity for falling for its empty promises. I feel like a fool and I feel dirty inside.

There is a restlessness stirring within me and I can find no peace, for I have violated the very purpose of my existence. I have sinned against The One who has given me life and I have committed an injustice against myself. Where or to whom shall I return to for solace? I cannot plead innocence as I am clearly guilty and there is no way to deny it.

I have only one recourse because I know in my heart nothing else will suffice, and this recourse is more precious to me than all of the world and all that it contains. I would not trade it in for anything, no matter how sweet the offer may appear.

I cry out to Allah for mercy and forgiveness. I confess my sin and my own weakness. I plead for clemency so that I may escape the punishment of that which I have committed.

But I lack the ability to express what I am feeling on the inside. How does one summon the words to articulate such sorrow, such despair, such anguish and such hopelessness? My tears and heart wrenching sobbing become my form of communication. At this moment it is the only language that I have in my possession.

My heart cries out as my cheeks become wet with tears: "Oh Allah, unless you forgive me I am utterly doomed. I have no other way of escape. All of my cleverness will not rescue me this time."

Somewhere in the torment of my own existence, when I feel my heart will rend it two, and the excruciating pain will bring about the end of my earthly existence, I hear the words of Allah, which are like a balm to my diseased heart and fresh air to my suffocated soul:

"Say: O Ibadi (My servants) who have transgressed against themselves (by committing evil deeds and sins)! Despair not of the Mercy of Allah, verily Allah forgives all sins. Truly, He is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful" (Quran 39:53)

And I am truly thankful that I am a Muslim.