During my therapy session, as it neared its end, my Christian therapist and I discussed ways to overcome the turmoil in my mind. Though I come from a different faith background, my therapist suggested the Serenity Prayer to help combat my fear and anxiety.
He explained:
"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
Surprisingly, this prayer bore a striking resemblance to one I knew well from my Islamic upbringing. The teachings of Islam, particularly the phrase "Allah is sufficient for me. There is none worthy of worship but Him. I have placed my trust in Him, and He is the lord of the Majestic Throne" (Sunan Abi Daud), shared a core message with the Serenity Prayer.
Both prayers urged us to recognize the limits of our control and to surrender to a higher power during life's mysterious moments. My profound sorrow in a few months ago was deeply rooted to my obsession with controlling every aspect of my life, and when things didn't go as planned, I felt shattered with regret.
Over the past year, I had been grappling with a lack of faith and a failing belief system. My logical nature clashed with the concept of surrendering control to a higher power. I couldn't grasp how God's presence played a role in my life decisions, leading me to believe I had sole control over my destiny. As a result, my fractured relationship with God seemed to be the root cause of my severe mental health condition.
But how can blame myself when the teachings, mindset, and rules in the Malaysian Muslim community didn't resonate with me. Growing up, I left religious classes with more questions than answers, but my doubts were ridiculed by Muslim teachers, labeling me as unfaithful simply for having different thoughts. Their arrogance and refusal to acknowledge doubts pushed me further away from religion, and I lost faith in what I couldn't see.
Yet, amid this internal conflict, I realized that there were good aspects of Islam that had previously provided me comfort. Those prayers had sustained my hope for the future, but my ideological divide with Islam had led me to overlook them.
My therapist's words struck a chord with me:
"Sometimes, the goodness we seek may already reside within us."
This made me understand that my discontent with certain aspects of the belief shouldn't distance me from the positive aspects Islam has to offer. The spirituality it teaches can provide comfort during the darkest times. In the past, I lost faith in the future and in God, primarily because I focused on what I couldn't do because of my faith rather than what I could do because of it.
I began to understand that I didn't need to conform to the version of Islam that others wanted me to be. Instead, I could find my own peace within the faith, shaped by my understanding and interpretation.
This realization sparked an interest in exploring Sufism, the inward spiritual and character-building aspect of Islam, which brought a profound revelation. It revealed the essence of Islam as a message of peace and unity, often overshadowed by human desires for power and superiority over others.
This was the message I truly needed from Islam. When we genuinely grasp that our inward spiritual growth is what matters in having faith, we soon realize that religions share the same message, just presented differently.
Most importantly, I have decided to take steps to be more spiritual without necessarily being strictly religious. I am taking my own baby steps back to having faith in life, its creator, and the future.
In the end, I learned that true peace within Islam could be found by embracing its teachings in a way that resonated with our hearts and souls. This message is universal. Therefore, our journey with faith should focus on inner spiritual growth rather than rigid external manifestations. Embracing this newfound understanding, I felt a sense of liberation as I no longer allowed others to define my faith. Instead, I found solace in shaping my own relationship with God and discovering the meaningful life Islam had to offer.