I was born in a hospital in Chicago in 1978.
It has been a wonderful journey.
Truly, I marvel at existence as such, and the fact that I am a part of it.
I know that I did not make myself.
Billions of human beings have believed in reincarnation, mostly in Asia.
I do not.
This life is all that I have ever known, and nothing has been able to convince me that I once inhabited a different human body, let alone an animal body. Because that belief is so far from my experience, it would require a radically powerful proof to convince me otherwise. I have never come across such a proof.
So here I am, this dude. This American dude.
I didn’t choose to be born a dude. I didn’t choose to be born with blue eyes. I didn’t choose to be born in Chicago in 1978.
But the fact of the matter is that at some point in time, perhaps somewhere between 6th-11th grade, I realized I had to choose.
I cannot but choose, as Sayyid Muḥammad Ḥusayn Ṭabāṭabāʾī has argued so effectively.
And I choose every day.
I have been choosing for decades now.
So I try to make the right choices.
Like Ḥurr b. Yazīd al-Riyāḥī.
In doing so, I am seeking to secure and amplify the mercy that I already feel envelops me.
With the blessings of al-Raḥmān seeking the blessings of al-Raḥīm.
Seeking refuge in You from You!
This blog is called A Mercy Case, after all.
Since 2008, I have used this as a place to speak freely.
As a place to lay my thoughts on (electronic) paper for others to see.
Hoping that they will catch something that I have missed.
Or correct me when I err.
But they are not there when I choose.
No matter what I do, I am alone when I choose.
And so the awareness of my choice leads me to a desperate need.
Because how can this American dude who was born in Chicago in 1978 actually know what the Creator of billions of planets – that I will never see in this life in which I am writing these words right now – actually wants me to do?!
Little old me.
What can I do but hope in uncreated mercy?!
What can I do but try each day, and have the good opinion of the Creator – of everything you and I know about – such that said Creator is fair and understands I am trying.
And so when I read in the Qur’an about another life after this one, I can believe in it. Because I already came once from nowhere to here. I have already experienced my own resurrection, so it is not illogical at all to believe that it can happen again. Of course it doesn’t have to happen again, but the Qur’an says that it will, and that seems like a trustworthy promise from the Creator.
So just as tomorrow I hope I do not undergo painful tribulations in my body, mind or heart, so too do I feel the same way about whatever will happen after my death. I want that life to be at least as good as this life, but hopefully better.
Everything else seems like details right now.
So on these nights, when hours become like years, I will hope for what lies beyond Earth.
For beauty, truth, pleasure and love that cannot be taken away.
For hopes that are not possible in my remaining years in this body.
For dreams that cannot even begin to rival the reality of my Lord’s generosity.
For everything.
Thank you, Allah, for making me.
There is nothing I can do to ever repay You.
But thank You.
Forever.
لا إله إلا الله
A Mercy Case 