Blessing

Virtual Universal Worship of November 6, 2005

I’ll be honest. I’m choosing to focus on this topic because I don’t really “feel” blessed right at the moment. Maybe it’s because I’m facing some difficult choices in my life and I really don’t have any idea where I’m going. Maybe it’s because I just really screwed up in a class I was teaching this evening and blew up at the students in a manner that is not usual for me. So I’m really working with this idea, that despite how I’m experiencing myself and the world at this very moment, there is blessing present.

So, after work, driving home, I cross over the Severn River bridge, a span that arches up over the river. Even at night, looking south, one can see where the Chesapeake expands outward on its opening way to the Atlantic. The water is always sparkling with the lights of sail boats moored in the open, even during this period of autumn, when it’s got to be pretty chilly out there.

Heading home—the skies are beautiful, new moon just a sliver, reminding me that tomorrow (Friday) night, my housemate and I are hosting an Eid al Fatr party to celebrate the ending of Ramadan. All the Muslim midshipmen from the Academy have been invited, along with an assortment of both Arab and Turkish guests (we’re hoping they get on with each other), many of whom are noted intellectuals or entrepreneurs. It’s not something I’d be in on if I wasn’t here…and I get to make my best pies for the lot of them. In fact, I got home and there was a wonderful test piece of homemade filo spinach pie waiting for me.

And then there’s the autumn itself: here it is really getting quite beautiful, despite the recent drought conditions. Although there isn’t a great deal of time to enjoy it, there are moments of rest, peace, reflection, even through the struggle of trying to fit in.

All the readings have a take on what it means to be blessed. Fundamental to each is a sense of gratitude—knowing not only who you are and what you have, but from whence you’ve come, and from Whom all arrives.

Upon reflection, there’s always a great deal for which to be grateful: despite continuing challenging conditions, Amina in New Orleans discovered that her house, with all its belongings, is basically intact, having survived wind, nearby flood waters and possible looting; there appears to be a slow but steady spiritual growth coupled with political awareness among some Americans, even among the Midshipmen that I teach at the Naval Academy; and the seasons continue to turn, sometimes gently, sometimes forcefully, reminding us that, as Inayat Khan termed it, the pages of the true Book of Truth sometimes turn in ways that compel acknowledgement.

Life goes on in its inexorable, sometimes terrifying, sometimes vastly entertaining fashion. It’s good to be a part of it, even at those times when it seems difficult or unyielding.

Ya Rabb’, YaWakil

Al-humdullillah