Diet Soda Now Linked to Heart Disease
(CNN) -- People who drink one or more soft drinks a day have a more than 50 percent higher risk of developing the heart disease precursor metabolic syndrome than people who drink less than one soda a day, a new study has found. And it didn't matter if it was a regular soda or a diet soda.
Metabolic syndrome is a constellation of health problems -- high waist circumference, high blood pressure, low levels of "good" cholesterol, " and other health problems -- that have been strongly linked to developing heart disease, stroke, and diabetes.
The study, in the American Heart Association journal Circulation, looked at more than 6,000 healthy people, who showed no signs of metabolic syndrome, and then followed up. After four years, 53 percent of people who drank an average of one or more soft drinks per day developed metabolic syndrome. Those who drank one or more diet soft drinks a day were at a 44 percent higher risk.
"The point is that the risk is high no matter how many soft drinks one consumes and no matter what type of soft drink one consumes," said Dr. Ramachandran S. Vasan, associate professor of medicine at Boston University School of Medicine and one of the study authors. "This adds to what we already know about how soft drinks may be associated with weight gain and metabolic risk."
The American Beverage Association took issue with the study, saying that the study proves no link between soft drinks and increased risk of heart disease.
The ABA added, "The assertions made could apply to any caloric product -- if you over consume any food or beverage with calories, there are health consequences. " ABA also said that it is "scientifically implausible" that diet soft drinks, which have no calories, cause weight gain or elevated blood pressure.
Study authors caution that they are not suggesting a direct link between soft drinks and heart disease. They stress that the association they found is between soft drinks and metabolic disease, and hesitate to speculate beyond that. They say more study is needed into why sodas are implicated in metabolic syndrome.
The American Heart Association responded to criticism of the study with a statement. "It is important to note that the study does not show that soft drinks cause risk factors for heart disease. It does show that the people studied who drank soft drinks were more likely to develop risk factors for heart disease."
------------ -----
Diet Soda Now Linked to Heart Disease
Eating two or more servings a day of red meat increases your risk of metabolic syndrome by 25 percent, compared to those who have two servings of red meat each week, a new study found.
Drinking diet soda also increased the risk of metabolic syndrome.
Metabolic syndrome is a cluster of risk factors such as excessive fat around your waist, high cholesterol, high blood sugar and high blood pressure, all of which can raise your risk of heart disease and diabetes.
The researchers examined the diets of over 9,500 people between the ages of 45 and 64. They were categorized into two groups: a "western-pattern diet" that included processed meat, fried foods and red meat, or a "prudent-pattern diet" that included more fruits and vegetables, poultry and fish.
They concluded that lots of meat, fried foods and diet soda increase your risk of heart disease.
Sources:
* Reuters January 22, 2008
* Circulation February 2008;117:754- 761
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Destination Jannah: is your suitcase ready?
Destination Jannah: is your suitcase ready?
(Qisas.com)
She’s my sister.
A true story translated by Muhammad Alshareef
Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn’t stop her though, you could never catch her not reciting Qur’an. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again, boredom was for others.
As for me I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place became my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my Salah.
One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching. The adhan softly rose in that quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.
Her voice carried from her prayer room. “Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?” I said.
With a sharp needle she popped my plans. “Don’t sleep before you pray Fajr!”
Agh…there’s still an hour before Fajr, that was only the first Adhaan!
With those loving pinches of hers, she called me closer. She was always like that, even before the fierce sickness shook her spirit and shut her in bed. “Hanan can you come sit beside me.”
I could never refuse any of her requests, you could touch the purity and sincerity. “Yes, Noorah?”
“Please sit here.”
“OK, I”m sitting. What’s on your mind?”
With the sweetest mono voice she began reciting:
“Every soul shall taste death and you will merely be repaid your earnings on Resurrection Day”
She stopped thoughtfully. Then she asked, “Do you believe in death?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you believe that you shall be responsible for whatever you do, regardless of how small or large?”
“I do, but Allah is Forgiving and Merciful and I’ve got a long life waiting for me.”
“Stop it Hanan … aren’t you afraid of death and it’s abruptness? Look at Hind. She was younger than you but she died in a car accident. So did so and so, and so and so. Death is age-blind and your age could never be a measure of when you shall die.”
The darkness of the room filled my skin with fear. “I’m scared of the dark and now you made me scared of death, how am I supposed to go to sleep now. Noorah, I thought you promised you’d go with us on vacation during the summer break.”
Impact. Her voice broke and her heart quivered. “I might be going on a long trip this year Hanan, but somewhere else. Just maybe. All of our lives are in Allah’s hands and we all belong to Him.”
My eyes welled and the tears slipped down both cheeks.
I pondered my sisters grizzly sickness, how the doctors had informed my father privately that there was not much hope that Noorah was going to outlive the disease. She wasn’t told though. Who hinted to her? Or was it that she could sense the truth.
“What are you thinking about Hanan?” Her voice was sharp. “Do you think I am just saying this because I am sick? Uh - uh. In fact, I may live longer than people who are not sick. And you Hanan, how long are you going to live? Twenty years, maybe? Forty? Then what?” Through the dark she reached for my hand and squeezed gently. “There’s no difference between us; we’re all going to leave this world to live in Paradise or agonize in Hell. Listen to the words of Allah:
“Anyone who is pushed away from the Fire and shown into Jannah will have triumphed.”
I left my sister’s room dazed, her words ringing in my ears: May Allah guide you Hanan - don’t forget your prayer.
Eight O’clock in the morning. Pounding on my door. I don’t usually wake up at this time. Crying. Confusion. O Allah, what happened?
Noorahs condition became critical after Fajr, they took her immediately to the hospital … Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.
There wasn’t going to be any trips this summer. It was written that I would spend the summer at home.
After an eternity…
It was one O’clock in the afternoon. Mother phoned the hospital. “Yes. You can come and see her now.” Dad’s voice had changed, mother could sense something had gone deathly wrong. We left immediately.
Where was that avenue I used to travel and thought was so short? Why was it so long now, so very long. Where was the cherished crowd and traffic that would give me a chance to gaze left and right. Everyone, just move out of our way. Mother was shaking her head in her hands crying as she made dua’a for her Noorah.
We arrived at the hospitals main entrance.
One man was moaning, another was involved in an accident and a third’s eyes were iced, you couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
We skipped stairs to Noorahs floor. She was in intensive care.
The nurse approached us. “Let me take you to her.” As we walked down the aisles the nurse went on expressing how sweet a girl Noorah was. She reassured Mother somewhat that Noorah’s condition had gotten better than what it was in the morning.
“Sorry. No more than one visitor at a time.” This was the intensive care unit. Through the small window in the door and past the flurry of white robes I caught my sisters eyes. Mother was standing beside her. After two minutes, mother came out unable to control her crying.
“You may enter and say Salam to her on condition that you do not speak too long,” they told me. “Two minutes should be enough.”
“How are you Noorah? You were fine last night sister, what happened?”
We held hands, she squeezed harmlessly. “Even now, Alhamdulillah, I’m doing fine.”
“Alhamdulillah… but…your hands are so cold.”
I sat on her bedside and rested my fingers on her knee. She jerked it away. “Sorry … did I hurt you?”
“No, it is just that I remembered Allah’s words
One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)
{waltafatul saaqu bil saaq}
“Hanan pray for me. I may be meeting the first day of the hearafter very soon. It is a long journey and I haven’t prepared enough good deeds in my suitcase.”
A tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek at her words. I cried and she joined me. The room blurred away and left us two to cry together. Rivulets of tears splashed down on my sister’s palm which I held with both hands. Dad was now becoming more worried about me. I’ve never cried like that before.
At home and upstairs in my room, I watched the sun pass away with a sorrowful day. Silence mingled in our corridors. A cousin came in my room, another. The visitors were many and all the voices from downstairs stirred together. Only one thing was clear at that point … Noorah had died!
I stopped distinguishing who came and who went. I couldn’t remember what they said. O Allah, where was I? What was going on? I couldn’t even cry anymore.
Later that week they told me what had happened. Dad had taken my hand to say goodbye to my sister for the last time, I had kissed Noorah’s head.
I remember only one thing though, seeing her spread on that bed, the bed that she was going to die on. I remembered the verse she recited:
“One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)” and I knew too well the truth of the next verse: “The drive on that day we be to your Lord (Allah)!”
I tiptoed into her prayer room that night. Staring at the quiet dressers and silenced mirrors, I treasured who it was that had shared my mother’s stomach with me. Noorah was my twin sister.
I remembered who I had swapped sorrows with. Who had comforted my rainy days. I remembered who had prayed for my guidance and who had spent so many tears for so many long nights telling me about death and accountability. May Allah save us all.
Tonight is Noorah’s first night that she shall spend in her tomb. O Allah, have mercy on her and illumine her grave. This was her Qur’an, her prayer mat and this was the spring rose-colored dress that she told me she would hide until she got married, the dress she wanted to keep just for her husband.
I remembered my sister and cried over all the days that I had lost. I prayed to Allah to have mercy on me, accept me and forgive me. I prayed to Allah to keep her firm in her grave as she always liked to mention in her supplications.
At that moment, I stopped. I asked myself: what if it was I who had died? Where would I be moving on to? Fear pressed me and the tears began all over again.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…
The first adhan rose softly from the Masjid, how beautiful it sounded this time. I felt calm and relaxed as I repeated the Muadhdhins call. I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders and stood to pray Fajr. I prayed as if it was my last prayer, a farewell prayer, just like Noorah had done yesterday. It had been her last Fajr.
Now and insha’ Allah for the rest of my life, if I awake in the mornings I do not count on being alive by evening, and in the evening I do not count on being alive by morning.
We are all going on Noorah’s journey.
What have we prepared for it?
(Qisas.com)
She’s my sister.
A true story translated by Muhammad Alshareef
Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn’t stop her though, you could never catch her not reciting Qur’an. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again, boredom was for others.
As for me I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place became my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my Salah.
One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching. The adhan softly rose in that quiet night. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.
Her voice carried from her prayer room. “Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?” I said.
With a sharp needle she popped my plans. “Don’t sleep before you pray Fajr!”
Agh…there’s still an hour before Fajr, that was only the first Adhaan!
With those loving pinches of hers, she called me closer. She was always like that, even before the fierce sickness shook her spirit and shut her in bed. “Hanan can you come sit beside me.”
I could never refuse any of her requests, you could touch the purity and sincerity. “Yes, Noorah?”
“Please sit here.”
“OK, I”m sitting. What’s on your mind?”
With the sweetest mono voice she began reciting:
“Every soul shall taste death and you will merely be repaid your earnings on Resurrection Day”
She stopped thoughtfully. Then she asked, “Do you believe in death?”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you believe that you shall be responsible for whatever you do, regardless of how small or large?”
“I do, but Allah is Forgiving and Merciful and I’ve got a long life waiting for me.”
“Stop it Hanan … aren’t you afraid of death and it’s abruptness? Look at Hind. She was younger than you but she died in a car accident. So did so and so, and so and so. Death is age-blind and your age could never be a measure of when you shall die.”
The darkness of the room filled my skin with fear. “I’m scared of the dark and now you made me scared of death, how am I supposed to go to sleep now. Noorah, I thought you promised you’d go with us on vacation during the summer break.”
Impact. Her voice broke and her heart quivered. “I might be going on a long trip this year Hanan, but somewhere else. Just maybe. All of our lives are in Allah’s hands and we all belong to Him.”
My eyes welled and the tears slipped down both cheeks.
I pondered my sisters grizzly sickness, how the doctors had informed my father privately that there was not much hope that Noorah was going to outlive the disease. She wasn’t told though. Who hinted to her? Or was it that she could sense the truth.
“What are you thinking about Hanan?” Her voice was sharp. “Do you think I am just saying this because I am sick? Uh - uh. In fact, I may live longer than people who are not sick. And you Hanan, how long are you going to live? Twenty years, maybe? Forty? Then what?” Through the dark she reached for my hand and squeezed gently. “There’s no difference between us; we’re all going to leave this world to live in Paradise or agonize in Hell. Listen to the words of Allah:
“Anyone who is pushed away from the Fire and shown into Jannah will have triumphed.”
I left my sister’s room dazed, her words ringing in my ears: May Allah guide you Hanan - don’t forget your prayer.
Eight O’clock in the morning. Pounding on my door. I don’t usually wake up at this time. Crying. Confusion. O Allah, what happened?
Noorahs condition became critical after Fajr, they took her immediately to the hospital … Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.
There wasn’t going to be any trips this summer. It was written that I would spend the summer at home.
After an eternity…
It was one O’clock in the afternoon. Mother phoned the hospital. “Yes. You can come and see her now.” Dad’s voice had changed, mother could sense something had gone deathly wrong. We left immediately.
Where was that avenue I used to travel and thought was so short? Why was it so long now, so very long. Where was the cherished crowd and traffic that would give me a chance to gaze left and right. Everyone, just move out of our way. Mother was shaking her head in her hands crying as she made dua’a for her Noorah.
We arrived at the hospitals main entrance.
One man was moaning, another was involved in an accident and a third’s eyes were iced, you couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
We skipped stairs to Noorahs floor. She was in intensive care.
The nurse approached us. “Let me take you to her.” As we walked down the aisles the nurse went on expressing how sweet a girl Noorah was. She reassured Mother somewhat that Noorah’s condition had gotten better than what it was in the morning.
“Sorry. No more than one visitor at a time.” This was the intensive care unit. Through the small window in the door and past the flurry of white robes I caught my sisters eyes. Mother was standing beside her. After two minutes, mother came out unable to control her crying.
“You may enter and say Salam to her on condition that you do not speak too long,” they told me. “Two minutes should be enough.”
“How are you Noorah? You were fine last night sister, what happened?”
We held hands, she squeezed harmlessly. “Even now, Alhamdulillah, I’m doing fine.”
“Alhamdulillah… but…your hands are so cold.”
I sat on her bedside and rested my fingers on her knee. She jerked it away. “Sorry … did I hurt you?”
“No, it is just that I remembered Allah’s words
One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)
{waltafatul saaqu bil saaq}
“Hanan pray for me. I may be meeting the first day of the hearafter very soon. It is a long journey and I haven’t prepared enough good deeds in my suitcase.”
A tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek at her words. I cried and she joined me. The room blurred away and left us two to cry together. Rivulets of tears splashed down on my sister’s palm which I held with both hands. Dad was now becoming more worried about me. I’ve never cried like that before.
At home and upstairs in my room, I watched the sun pass away with a sorrowful day. Silence mingled in our corridors. A cousin came in my room, another. The visitors were many and all the voices from downstairs stirred together. Only one thing was clear at that point … Noorah had died!
I stopped distinguishing who came and who went. I couldn’t remember what they said. O Allah, where was I? What was going on? I couldn’t even cry anymore.
Later that week they told me what had happened. Dad had taken my hand to say goodbye to my sister for the last time, I had kissed Noorah’s head.
I remember only one thing though, seeing her spread on that bed, the bed that she was going to die on. I remembered the verse she recited:
“One leg will be wrapped to the other leg (in the death shroud)” and I knew too well the truth of the next verse: “The drive on that day we be to your Lord (Allah)!”
I tiptoed into her prayer room that night. Staring at the quiet dressers and silenced mirrors, I treasured who it was that had shared my mother’s stomach with me. Noorah was my twin sister.
I remembered who I had swapped sorrows with. Who had comforted my rainy days. I remembered who had prayed for my guidance and who had spent so many tears for so many long nights telling me about death and accountability. May Allah save us all.
Tonight is Noorah’s first night that she shall spend in her tomb. O Allah, have mercy on her and illumine her grave. This was her Qur’an, her prayer mat and this was the spring rose-colored dress that she told me she would hide until she got married, the dress she wanted to keep just for her husband.
I remembered my sister and cried over all the days that I had lost. I prayed to Allah to have mercy on me, accept me and forgive me. I prayed to Allah to keep her firm in her grave as she always liked to mention in her supplications.
At that moment, I stopped. I asked myself: what if it was I who had died? Where would I be moving on to? Fear pressed me and the tears began all over again.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…
The first adhan rose softly from the Masjid, how beautiful it sounded this time. I felt calm and relaxed as I repeated the Muadhdhins call. I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders and stood to pray Fajr. I prayed as if it was my last prayer, a farewell prayer, just like Noorah had done yesterday. It had been her last Fajr.
Now and insha’ Allah for the rest of my life, if I awake in the mornings I do not count on being alive by evening, and in the evening I do not count on being alive by morning.
We are all going on Noorah’s journey.
What have we prepared for it?
Regret
Regret
Muhammad Ash-Shareef
American University, Washington DC
Audio Link: http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=o5FC25_ e9bk&feature=related
A police officer in a Muslim country wrote the following letter to a Shaykh describing the events that led to his return to Allah. He recalls:
Seeing accidents and crash victims was a normal part of my day, but one incident was different.
My partner and I had parked on the shoulder of the highway and began to chat. In a random second, the scene shattered to the hideous sound of metal bodies becoming one. We threw our heads back to see what had happened: a head-on collision, the result of a vehicle slipping into the lane of the oncoming traffic.
You couldn't describe the carnage. Two young men sprawled in the first car, both in critical condition. We carried them gently away from the car and rested them on the ground.
Quickly we returned to assist the owner of the second car. He was dead. Back we went to the two young men lying side by side on the pavement.
My partner began dictating the Shahadah to them. "Say: La iIaha illAllah (there is no god but Allah), La iIaha illAllah…"
... their tongues wouldn't acknowledge. They started humming the hypnotic lyrics of some song. I was terrified. My partner had experience however and he kept repeating his instruction.
I stood watching, no movement, eyes locked. Never in my life had I seen anything similar to what was going on before me. In fact, I've never actually seen someone die, and never in such a satanic way.
My partner continued to instruct them to say the Shahadah but there was no use. The hum of their song came to a slow silence, slowly. The first one stopped and then the other. Not a stir. Dead.
We carried them to our patrol car, my partner made no effort to speak. Not a whisper between us two as we carried the corpses to the nearest hospital...
Dear brothers and sisters, Ubayy ibn Khalaf confronted Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - one day with a rotted bone in his hand. He crushed it in front of his hands, let the wind blow it away and said, "Muhammad do you claim that Allah will bring these ashes to life?!?"
[Has not man considered how We created him from a drop of semen? Yet he is an open adversary! He makes something up to be compared with Us and forgets how he was created. He says, "Who will revive [our] bones after they have rotted away?]
Allah replied Ubayy and everyone else who dares make the mistake: [Say 'The one Who raised them up in the first place will revive them. He is aware of all creation.'] - Surah YaaSeen 36: 77-79 (From Tafseer Ibn Katheer)
Reflecting over the topic of this khutbah, I came across a website where readers submit stories of their biggest regret. For some, it was a lost love, for others it was a job they passed up, and for still others it was a flip of fate that ended in a horrific way.
But in all, the regrets were worldly candies that had been lost - short-lived pleasures of life. This is the world in which Allah decreed that summers always come to an end.
Those stories were of living beings recalling their regrets. However, what I would like to see is a website where the dead would recall their regrets! They would not regret the lost love, or the silly job or the twist of fate, they would regret every second that they did not spend worshiping Allah.
We are all here today because we claim that Laa ilaaha illa Allah Muhammadur Rasul Allah is what we believe. Nevertheless, the problem is that for many it is a belief that dropped its bags and sat down on the tongue and did not move on to penetrate the heart.
There are many men and women of our Deen for whom this was not the case. Muhammad ibn Abi Imran narrates: I heard someone ask our shaykh Hatim al-Asum how he reached the level he was at in reliance upon Allah. He replied, "I became convinced in four things (i.e. that these four things penetrated my heart). One, I am convinced that no one else will eat the provision Allah has decreed for me, so I am content. And two, I am convinced that no one else is going to do good works except me, so I am busy doing it myself. Three, I am certain death shall come unexpectedly, so I am busying myself in expectation of it. And four, I am certain I shall never escape the Sight of Allah, so I am shy to disobey him while He is watching."
Even though we all claim to believe what Hatim al-Asum is convinced of how many of us have it carried it past their tongue and allowed it a space in their heart.
We all know what the media does to distort facts on the nightly news. They take a long speech, cut and paste, and take words out of context. Well, the media is not the only one that takes things out of context. Consider the following verse:
[Say: "My servants who have acted extravagantly against themselves still do not despair of Allah's mercy. Allah forgives all offences; He is the Forgiving, the Merciful.]
So many of us have heard this verse out of context. It may seem like a human can do all the bad that they want and when they die they will go to heaven. But read on...
[And turn in repentance towards your Lord and commit yourselves peacefully to Him before torment comes to you; then you will not be supported.]
[Follow the finest part of whatever has been sent down to you from your Lord before torment comes upon you suddenly while you do not notice it.]
[Lest some soul should say: "Alas my grief that I was undutiful to Allah and I was indeed among those who scoffed (at the truth)] - surah az-Zumar 39/53-56
This last verse is proof that the Qur'an cannot be translated. How do you explain the grief of 'Yaa Hassrataa!'? Imam At-Taahir ibn Aashoor tries explaining: Hasrah is extreme violent intoxicated regret. It is like a servant boy whose master charged him with the care of a flock. Thinking that the master was not watching, he slept and played, leaving the flock unattended. The flock went further and further away until a pack of wolves came and devoured every one. The regret is the regret that boy had to his master.
On this line, Yahya ibn Mu'aadh - rahimahullah - said, "The most naïve thing in my eyes is to linger in sin - with no regrets - hoping for a far off pardon. And to hope to come closer to Allah without doing anything. And to wait for the harvest of Jannah with the seeds of Hell - waiting for reward without any deeds."
You long for redemption but have not taken its road / Brother, boats don't sail in the desert!
Part 2
The police officer that we mentioned earlier fell back into routine, as he narrates, and started to drift from Allah. But another event happened to him that sealed the return. He continues:
... What an odd world. After some time, about six months, a strange accident took place. A young man was moving along the highway normally, but within one of the tunnels leading to the city, he was maimed by a flat tire.
To the side of the tunnel he parked and stepped to the back to remove the spare tire. The whistle of a speeding car from behind. In a second, it collided with the crippled car, the young man in-between. He fell to the ground with critical injuries.
I rushed to the scene, myself and another partner other than the first. Together we carried the young man's body into our patrol car and phoned the hospital to prepare for his arrival.
He was a young adult in his blossom years. Religious, you could tell from his appearance. He was mumbling when we carried him, but in our rush, we had not paid attention to what he was saying.
However, when we placed him on his back in the patrol car we could make it out. Through the pain his heart was reciting Qur'an! He was so immersed in the recitation ... Subhan Allah, you would have never said that this person was in intense pain.
Blood had soaked his clothes crimson red, his bones had clearly snapped in several places. To tell the truth, he looked like he was staring into the eyes of death.
He continued to read in his unique, tender voice. Reciting each verse in proper rhythm. In my entire life, I had never heard any recitation like it. I said to myself, I'm ... I'm going to instruct him to say the Shahadah just like I saw my friend doing; especially since I had previous experience.
My partner and I listened intently to that soft voice. I felt a shiver shock my back and up my arm, the hair stood.
Suddenly, the hymn ceased. I watched silently as his hand rose softly. He had his index finger pointed upward to the heavens, saying the Shahadah (La ilaha illa Allah/There is no god but Allah). Then ... his head slumpt. Nothing.
I jumped to the back seat, felt his hand, his heart, his breathing. He was dead!
I couldn't stop staring at him. A tear fell but I hid it in shame. I turned back to my partner and told him that the boy's life had ceased - he burst out loud crying. Seeing a man cry like that, I could not control myself and my partner faded away behind the fall of my own tears. The patrol car fogged from the emotions.
We arrived at the hospital. As we rushed through the corridors, we told all the doctors, nurses, and onlookers what had happened. So many people were affected by what we said, some stood there speechless and tearful.
No one wanted to lose sight of the boy until they had been assured of the time and place he would be buried.
One of the hospital staff phoned the boys home. His brother picked it up and was told of the accident.
His brother told us about him: He used to go out every Monday to visit his only grandmother outside of town. Whenever he visited her, he made sure to spend time with the poor children idling the streets and the orphans.
The town knew him - he was the one that would bring them the Islamic books and tapes. His dusty Mazda would be filled with rice and sugar and even candies – couldn't forget the candies – for those families who were in need.
He would not stand for anyone to discourage him from the long journey to that town. He would always politely reply that the long drive gave him time to review his Quran and listen to Islamic lectures on his cassette deck.
And ... and that with every step to the town he hoped for the reward he would find with Allah...
It is true, brothers and sisters, that Allah is Merciful and forgives and forgives. [Yet I am quite Forgiving ... ] But to whom? [ ... towards anyone who turns (in repentance) and believes and acts honorable; then he will be guided.] - Surah Taha 20/82
[O our people! Respond to Allah's Caller (Muhammad - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam) and believe in him, Allah will forgive you of your sins and will save your from a painful torment.] - Surah al-Ahqaf 46/31
Just like we reply someone's call when they phone us - this is Allah and His Messenger calling us! Let us answer.
There is a verse in the Qur'an that when Shaytaan read it he cried and felt regret. Read this verse, it is the door to our happiness in this life and the next:
[And those who, if they commit an immorality or wrong themselves, remember Allah and seek forgiveness for their sins - and who can forgive sins except Allah? - and who do not persist in what they have done while they know.]
Allah then continues: [For those - their reward is forgiveness from their Lord and gardens beneath which rivers flow (in Jannah), wherein they shall abide eternally. Excellent is the reward of the (righteous) workers.] - Surah Ali-Imraan 3/135,136
Allah sent the Prophets and the books; He sent the warners and glad tiders; and He sent the reminders. And atop all that, Allah comes down to Samaa' ad-Dunya - in a way befitting of His Majesty - in the third portion of the night - every night - calling to every one of His servants: "Is there anyone who shall make Dua' so that I shall accept His Du'a? Is there anyone who shall ask for pardon so that I may pardon him?"
Dear brothers and sisters, let us make a pledge tonight to set our alarm clocks at 2 am in the morning. We all know that if there was some special sports event on tv or someone had to catch a plane at that time they would be capable of waking up.
Let's set the alarm to pray only 2 raka'at to Allah. And in Sajdah, recall just one sin - just one - between us and Allah and ask Allah ta'ala to forgive us for that sin, pledging that we shall never return to it.
Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - taught us that Allah is more pleased with the repentance of His servant than a man who loses his camel in the desert and in that waste land loses hope of life; In that state he sits down awaiting death to come; then he opens his eyes and finds his camel standing beside him with all the provisions to take him home. In his extreme happiness he cries out: "O Allah, you are my servant and I am your Lord!!" He said it wrong from the bliss of happiness.
Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - said that verily Allah is more happy with our towbah than this man!
Tonight at 2 am, let's all try to make Allah happy with us. Believe me, we won't regret it.
Ameen! Aqeemus salaah!
Muhammad Ash-Shareef
American University, Washington DC
Audio Link: http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=o5FC25_ e9bk&feature=related
A police officer in a Muslim country wrote the following letter to a Shaykh describing the events that led to his return to Allah. He recalls:
Seeing accidents and crash victims was a normal part of my day, but one incident was different.
My partner and I had parked on the shoulder of the highway and began to chat. In a random second, the scene shattered to the hideous sound of metal bodies becoming one. We threw our heads back to see what had happened: a head-on collision, the result of a vehicle slipping into the lane of the oncoming traffic.
You couldn't describe the carnage. Two young men sprawled in the first car, both in critical condition. We carried them gently away from the car and rested them on the ground.
Quickly we returned to assist the owner of the second car. He was dead. Back we went to the two young men lying side by side on the pavement.
My partner began dictating the Shahadah to them. "Say: La iIaha illAllah (there is no god but Allah), La iIaha illAllah…"
... their tongues wouldn't acknowledge. They started humming the hypnotic lyrics of some song. I was terrified. My partner had experience however and he kept repeating his instruction.
I stood watching, no movement, eyes locked. Never in my life had I seen anything similar to what was going on before me. In fact, I've never actually seen someone die, and never in such a satanic way.
My partner continued to instruct them to say the Shahadah but there was no use. The hum of their song came to a slow silence, slowly. The first one stopped and then the other. Not a stir. Dead.
We carried them to our patrol car, my partner made no effort to speak. Not a whisper between us two as we carried the corpses to the nearest hospital...
Dear brothers and sisters, Ubayy ibn Khalaf confronted Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - one day with a rotted bone in his hand. He crushed it in front of his hands, let the wind blow it away and said, "Muhammad do you claim that Allah will bring these ashes to life?!?"
[Has not man considered how We created him from a drop of semen? Yet he is an open adversary! He makes something up to be compared with Us and forgets how he was created. He says, "Who will revive [our] bones after they have rotted away?]
Allah replied Ubayy and everyone else who dares make the mistake: [Say 'The one Who raised them up in the first place will revive them. He is aware of all creation.'] - Surah YaaSeen 36: 77-79 (From Tafseer Ibn Katheer)
Reflecting over the topic of this khutbah, I came across a website where readers submit stories of their biggest regret. For some, it was a lost love, for others it was a job they passed up, and for still others it was a flip of fate that ended in a horrific way.
But in all, the regrets were worldly candies that had been lost - short-lived pleasures of life. This is the world in which Allah decreed that summers always come to an end.
Those stories were of living beings recalling their regrets. However, what I would like to see is a website where the dead would recall their regrets! They would not regret the lost love, or the silly job or the twist of fate, they would regret every second that they did not spend worshiping Allah.
We are all here today because we claim that Laa ilaaha illa Allah Muhammadur Rasul Allah is what we believe. Nevertheless, the problem is that for many it is a belief that dropped its bags and sat down on the tongue and did not move on to penetrate the heart.
There are many men and women of our Deen for whom this was not the case. Muhammad ibn Abi Imran narrates: I heard someone ask our shaykh Hatim al-Asum how he reached the level he was at in reliance upon Allah. He replied, "I became convinced in four things (i.e. that these four things penetrated my heart). One, I am convinced that no one else will eat the provision Allah has decreed for me, so I am content. And two, I am convinced that no one else is going to do good works except me, so I am busy doing it myself. Three, I am certain death shall come unexpectedly, so I am busying myself in expectation of it. And four, I am certain I shall never escape the Sight of Allah, so I am shy to disobey him while He is watching."
Even though we all claim to believe what Hatim al-Asum is convinced of how many of us have it carried it past their tongue and allowed it a space in their heart.
We all know what the media does to distort facts on the nightly news. They take a long speech, cut and paste, and take words out of context. Well, the media is not the only one that takes things out of context. Consider the following verse:
[Say: "My servants who have acted extravagantly against themselves still do not despair of Allah's mercy. Allah forgives all offences; He is the Forgiving, the Merciful.]
So many of us have heard this verse out of context. It may seem like a human can do all the bad that they want and when they die they will go to heaven. But read on...
[And turn in repentance towards your Lord and commit yourselves peacefully to Him before torment comes to you; then you will not be supported.]
[Follow the finest part of whatever has been sent down to you from your Lord before torment comes upon you suddenly while you do not notice it.]
[Lest some soul should say: "Alas my grief that I was undutiful to Allah and I was indeed among those who scoffed (at the truth)] - surah az-Zumar 39/53-56
This last verse is proof that the Qur'an cannot be translated. How do you explain the grief of 'Yaa Hassrataa!'? Imam At-Taahir ibn Aashoor tries explaining: Hasrah is extreme violent intoxicated regret. It is like a servant boy whose master charged him with the care of a flock. Thinking that the master was not watching, he slept and played, leaving the flock unattended. The flock went further and further away until a pack of wolves came and devoured every one. The regret is the regret that boy had to his master.
On this line, Yahya ibn Mu'aadh - rahimahullah - said, "The most naïve thing in my eyes is to linger in sin - with no regrets - hoping for a far off pardon. And to hope to come closer to Allah without doing anything. And to wait for the harvest of Jannah with the seeds of Hell - waiting for reward without any deeds."
You long for redemption but have not taken its road / Brother, boats don't sail in the desert!
Part 2
The police officer that we mentioned earlier fell back into routine, as he narrates, and started to drift from Allah. But another event happened to him that sealed the return. He continues:
... What an odd world. After some time, about six months, a strange accident took place. A young man was moving along the highway normally, but within one of the tunnels leading to the city, he was maimed by a flat tire.
To the side of the tunnel he parked and stepped to the back to remove the spare tire. The whistle of a speeding car from behind. In a second, it collided with the crippled car, the young man in-between. He fell to the ground with critical injuries.
I rushed to the scene, myself and another partner other than the first. Together we carried the young man's body into our patrol car and phoned the hospital to prepare for his arrival.
He was a young adult in his blossom years. Religious, you could tell from his appearance. He was mumbling when we carried him, but in our rush, we had not paid attention to what he was saying.
However, when we placed him on his back in the patrol car we could make it out. Through the pain his heart was reciting Qur'an! He was so immersed in the recitation ... Subhan Allah, you would have never said that this person was in intense pain.
Blood had soaked his clothes crimson red, his bones had clearly snapped in several places. To tell the truth, he looked like he was staring into the eyes of death.
He continued to read in his unique, tender voice. Reciting each verse in proper rhythm. In my entire life, I had never heard any recitation like it. I said to myself, I'm ... I'm going to instruct him to say the Shahadah just like I saw my friend doing; especially since I had previous experience.
My partner and I listened intently to that soft voice. I felt a shiver shock my back and up my arm, the hair stood.
Suddenly, the hymn ceased. I watched silently as his hand rose softly. He had his index finger pointed upward to the heavens, saying the Shahadah (La ilaha illa Allah/There is no god but Allah). Then ... his head slumpt. Nothing.
I jumped to the back seat, felt his hand, his heart, his breathing. He was dead!
I couldn't stop staring at him. A tear fell but I hid it in shame. I turned back to my partner and told him that the boy's life had ceased - he burst out loud crying. Seeing a man cry like that, I could not control myself and my partner faded away behind the fall of my own tears. The patrol car fogged from the emotions.
We arrived at the hospital. As we rushed through the corridors, we told all the doctors, nurses, and onlookers what had happened. So many people were affected by what we said, some stood there speechless and tearful.
No one wanted to lose sight of the boy until they had been assured of the time and place he would be buried.
One of the hospital staff phoned the boys home. His brother picked it up and was told of the accident.
His brother told us about him: He used to go out every Monday to visit his only grandmother outside of town. Whenever he visited her, he made sure to spend time with the poor children idling the streets and the orphans.
The town knew him - he was the one that would bring them the Islamic books and tapes. His dusty Mazda would be filled with rice and sugar and even candies – couldn't forget the candies – for those families who were in need.
He would not stand for anyone to discourage him from the long journey to that town. He would always politely reply that the long drive gave him time to review his Quran and listen to Islamic lectures on his cassette deck.
And ... and that with every step to the town he hoped for the reward he would find with Allah...
It is true, brothers and sisters, that Allah is Merciful and forgives and forgives. [Yet I am quite Forgiving ... ] But to whom? [ ... towards anyone who turns (in repentance) and believes and acts honorable; then he will be guided.] - Surah Taha 20/82
[O our people! Respond to Allah's Caller (Muhammad - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam) and believe in him, Allah will forgive you of your sins and will save your from a painful torment.] - Surah al-Ahqaf 46/31
Just like we reply someone's call when they phone us - this is Allah and His Messenger calling us! Let us answer.
There is a verse in the Qur'an that when Shaytaan read it he cried and felt regret. Read this verse, it is the door to our happiness in this life and the next:
[And those who, if they commit an immorality or wrong themselves, remember Allah and seek forgiveness for their sins - and who can forgive sins except Allah? - and who do not persist in what they have done while they know.]
Allah then continues: [For those - their reward is forgiveness from their Lord and gardens beneath which rivers flow (in Jannah), wherein they shall abide eternally. Excellent is the reward of the (righteous) workers.] - Surah Ali-Imraan 3/135,136
Allah sent the Prophets and the books; He sent the warners and glad tiders; and He sent the reminders. And atop all that, Allah comes down to Samaa' ad-Dunya - in a way befitting of His Majesty - in the third portion of the night - every night - calling to every one of His servants: "Is there anyone who shall make Dua' so that I shall accept His Du'a? Is there anyone who shall ask for pardon so that I may pardon him?"
Dear brothers and sisters, let us make a pledge tonight to set our alarm clocks at 2 am in the morning. We all know that if there was some special sports event on tv or someone had to catch a plane at that time they would be capable of waking up.
Let's set the alarm to pray only 2 raka'at to Allah. And in Sajdah, recall just one sin - just one - between us and Allah and ask Allah ta'ala to forgive us for that sin, pledging that we shall never return to it.
Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - taught us that Allah is more pleased with the repentance of His servant than a man who loses his camel in the desert and in that waste land loses hope of life; In that state he sits down awaiting death to come; then he opens his eyes and finds his camel standing beside him with all the provisions to take him home. In his extreme happiness he cries out: "O Allah, you are my servant and I am your Lord!!" He said it wrong from the bliss of happiness.
Rasul Allah - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - said that verily Allah is more happy with our towbah than this man!
Tonight at 2 am, let's all try to make Allah happy with us. Believe me, we won't regret it.
Ameen! Aqeemus salaah!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
