Narrated Ibn Abbas (Radia Allaahu ‘anhu) that the Prophet (salla Allaahu ‘alaihi wa sallam) said: “….. Seventy thousand (of this nation) shall enter Paradise without reckoning, and he said (describing them): ‘Those people are those who do not (ask others to) treat them with Ruqyah, nor do they believe in bad or good omen, nor do they get themselves branded (cauterized), but they put their trust (only) in their Lord.’”[Al-Bukhari, Book of Medicine]
“My goal”, he said to her, “is to be of those who enter Jannah without hisab”.
She didn’t tell him, but that was one of the duas she made during every single prayer.
And yet, after several phone conversations, after weeks of speaking, after she’d been honest about every single aspect of her life to him, after they’d spoken to each other’s siblings, after the parents’ had been in communication … now he was telling her … now …
“I want my wife to not be in the same room as a non-mahram man, as I follow this too”.
She listened quietly, stunned. Her mind thinking back to all the times she’d talked about her extended family, her students, her cousins …
“Not even if it’s a family gathering, and my cousins are sitting there, with the parents and everyone?” she held her breath.
He stumbled with his words, and then said “Yes, not even with family there. I wouldn’t feel comfortable”.
How had this conversation begun, you ask? It began because she sent him a screenshot of an Al Maghrib course she really wanted to attend. He hadn’t responded then. And now she sat here, having this phone conversation with him, 8 hours later.
Him telling her how he didn’t believe in these programs and instructors. He didn’t want her to listen to Al Maghrib or Al Bayyinah, all of these so-called scholars aren’t worth listening to. They’re deviants.
He knew she was taken aback because she’d spoken fondly of these teachers, and shared tidbits of wisdom she’d gathered. He hadn’t, not even once, said that he disapproved of them.
He had said in past conversations, “I want to give you the exact same home environment like the one in your parent’s home because I want you to be comfortable”.
He went on and on and on. This conversation had been an hour and a half already, her phone told her as she looked down at it to check the time. He didn’t need her to say a word, he just continued.
Until, his speech was over and then he realized how quiet the line was, “M, are you still there?”.
She couldn’t breathe, she was on the verge of tears. She had been typing on her phone diary as he had continued his speech, “Oh Allah, help me get through this, ameen. I’m so hurt right now”.
“Yea, I’m here. I need some time to think about this.”
After exchanging the niceties she hung up. And she messaged him. She told him how hurt she was, and asked him why he hadn’t mentioned all this earlier when all of these things had already been discussed and he had hidden his perspectives.
He replied, “M, you are such a well-mannered person, I know it was my fault, I have been vague about these things. I just didn’t know how much to share.”
She had tears in her eyes, “S, if you trusted Allah, you would have been completely honest about everything, because you would know that whatever’s meant for you will never miss you.”
She waited as the screened displayed “typing …”
“I know, M, and that is something I’ve learned from you. I’m sorry.”
Tears, prayer matt, mom’s shoulder, crying.
Hadn’t he read the hadith properly, “…but they put their trust (only) in their Lord.’”[Al-Bukhari, Book of Medicine]
This man, who she thought was worth trusting because he dropped Ahadith and Verses of the Quran left, right, and center, he who had a fist length beard, he who spoke at length about gheerah, he who had told her he would relocate to her city just for her, he who told her she meant so much to him …
He had been dishonest with her, and told her he did so because essentially he didn’t trust God.