I am weeping.
The last day of Ramadan felt like I was saying goodbye to a dear friend I wasn't going to see again. So I saw myself seizing every opportunity of the day for a few extra duas and reminders. I had even begun the habit of carrying around a small Quran in my bag and reading it in public on my way to work and back. I began to understand the value of time. I somehow also felt always in serene company because of it. I didn't need people around me to feel alive and their company appeared to me a mere distraction most of the time than anything else. So when the night of Eid came around, I didn't know what to expect.
At first I was in denial, then once I realized how my patterns of ibadah began to shift, I weeped. And I found myself fighting boughts of tear on Eid. But why? Why was I crying?
Maybe I was crying because of my weakness. I thought: "why can't I be the same person I was yesterday"? Why can't I make prayer the same way? Where did my enthusiasm and energy go?
I weeped once more.
Now with our energy back, we seem to project it in everything but ibadah. I was able to focus clearly and lose my procrastination habits in Ramadan. I was also able to put my body through tough conditions and to remain active despite the hunger and heat. How?
Oh Allah, when you said this was a month for guidance and mercy, this is exactly what you meant. And when you said it was a month to bring us ease, you held true to your word. Guidance was easy and when we are guided, we sense Allah's mercy.
Oh Allah, make me one of those who give your Quran its full right and who remain consistent in their ibadah. Oh Allah, do not let anything distract us from our true purpose and lose sight of who we are. We are your slaves and we take pride in being so. Guide us and keep us close to your path.