Your free to say what you want....but know there are consequences!

I find it interesting in the Arab world that many many members of the govt etc will wax eloquently about new freedoms that are being given everyday across the Middle East. New charters being signed...new laws being enacted that are supposed to satisfy the populace that what they want matters...what they have to say is important...and the right to say it can be undertaken without fear of reprisal...or so we are led to believe.

I also find it interesting that all Arab countries routinely round up those that speak in a negative manner about those "in charge"...however "under the table" that talk might be. Journalists....authors...and even the occasional blogger is made to pay for daring to go up against "the man" or in this case the resident King or dictator...and publish any form of disatisfaction. People are happy dammit and we dont want to hear anything to the contrary...or else pay the consequences. At least we in American can publicly finger point at our brain dead president without fear of reprisal...we even do it live on tv...without benefit of those pesky 5 min delay tactics. Good ole Bush made himself a target by daring to lead the last Superpower on earth...and must deal with and suffer the consequences...would be nice if all these overstuffed...bullet proof SUV driven...cant make a "spontaneous" public appearance without first a weeks advance notice so the "surprised" neighborhood can spruce the place up with greenery and paint jobs....could do the same.

A friend of mine works for the Ministry of Education as a Social Worker in one of the govt run girls schools. She is also a writer for the local Arab paper Al Wasat. She has become rather well known for her sharp tongue and continued ass kicking she routinely pens out about the various Ministries but specifically the Ministry of Education because of its unfair practices...its inability to get with the times and update its education process...and the fact that Bahrains children are suffering from this lack of real concern for their future. She has come under fire more than once for airing her views...even though she has been congratulated over and over again for her valid points and audacity to write on such "scandolous" topics to begin with. In the Arab world...its best to leave sleeping dogs lie and all that...to poke the dog can only result in a vicious bite...and she has been bitten at last.

Rather than listen to her and possibly all those around her voice their discontent at the state of education current in Bahrain...she has been blacklisted and removed from her school of 8 years to be sent to one of the worst girl schools in Bahrain...reputation wise its not just a step down in prestige and status....its a freefall....and one shes not likely to recover from.

All this because she is unhappy with the current policies practiced by the Ministry of Education....and because when her pleas for reform etc fell on deaf ears at the Ministry she decided to take it public and let the people know whats going on...and for this, rather than listen to her...possibly gain some insight and improve their practices, or at least pretend to...she is made to pay for causing "dissent" and daring to present the Ministry of Education as anything other than an efficient concerned authority in charge of this nations youth. How dare she take such a step and not toe the party line...the line of "shut up ....do your job...get your salary...and always smile and praise those that least deserve it" if you hope of ever receiving a promotion etc.

Whats the point of being so vocal about "free speech" and our doors are always open for our peoples complaints...and why sit in your cushy chair and call yourself a Minister of anything if your not prepared to listen to the very people you serve and let their complaints improve your actions...why even bother coming to work if all your going to do is collect a salary....you can do that from home...eh?

Many many people in Bahrain prefer to smile and kiss some "royal or ministerial ass"...but some..a very few...but maybe enough to get the ball for reform rolling...have decided they just cant pucker up any more...chapped lips and all. I hope she stands tough...I hope she doesnt let her family and friends convince her she is "just asking for trouble" by standing firm and sticking to her priniciples...I hope she remembers that she has two daughters that consider the future of Bahrain their future too...and so should make her choices with those two in mind...and not let the concerns of her fellow adept 'ass kissers' convince her she is going to take them all down with her. Would be nice for once that instead of stepping on her and pushing her back down in the dirt of silence...they gave her a hand...and lifted her up on their shoulders...better to see her target...and be seen as a force to be reckoned with. I would hazard a guess and declare that if she were actually successful and managed to make some change for the better with her articles etc...then these same people who are urging her to shut her mouth...would then step forward and reap the rewards of knowing her and maybe even declare her ideas were theirs all along. It seems to be the norm for ass kissers...complain secretly....ass kiss publicly...and enjoy the benefits when other peoples harwork and suffering bring about actual change....but at no time...ever ever...will they acknowledge her as having the right to say these things...and giving her credit for having the balls to say what they themselves are too afrid too.

Go Butterfly...your not alone girl.

To Dream a Little Dream...2

Continuing on from the first dream...I come to the second one that made such and impact on me. This one was several months after the first one and once again was very religious in nature but had a more positive feel to it...and it left me quite breathless and amazed when I woke up from
it.

In this dream I am at the beginning of a very long hallway type thing. This hallway is not meters long but centuries long...its long. I know this without knowing how I know...you know. Dreams are like that. I also know that at the end of this very long hallway something spectacular is happening...but Im not aware yet of what exactly it is. As I start floating down this hallway (yes Im flying of sorts and yes...its cool) I can see along the sides of the hallway different periods of human evolution and cultures etc are presented. I mean actual people are there...like little communities...each acting out a period of time in history....(did I mention the hallway was huge...and long) and as I pass each community I can hear babbling...at first it seems like babbling but then somewhere along the way I realize they are speaking languages...I just didnt realize it of course...but heres an amazing thing...I could understand what they were saying. Dont ask me how I know that but I do...and most of the languages I heard in my dream I have no idea what they were but I coud understand them non the less...the further down the hall I got the more familiar some of the languages became...such as eventually I realized I was hearing French or German etc...but the earlier languages remind me of the language that was in the movie about Jesus that Mel Gibson made...Aramaic I believe...how I know that I dont know...it just felt right in the dream the way things often do.

It was at this point that I realized every now and then I would hear a tremendous crashing sound...so loud and emmense that everything seem to shudder ready to fall apart. I had no idea what was making the sound at first but eventually I realized that the hallway was partitioned off into large sections...centuries large remember...and as I passed a certain point massive doors would close behind me (not directly behind me...but centuries past that I had passed all ready...understand). I also realized that I was speeding up...where as before I was rather coasting along...now I was almost whizzing by...barely able to take in what was going on along the sides of the hallway...but I could still see clearly and still hear the different languages...without really looking or listening (dont ask me...its a dream).

Suddenly my vision speeded up so that I could see way way down the hallway...but I was still centuries back (sorry for the confusion) and what I saw was a light shining down on a pedestal...and on the pedestal was a golden Quran...and pages were slowly turning on the Quran and I could hear massive amounts of languages all jumbled up together...but all saying the same the thing...recitation of the Quran. Each time a page was read...and as it turned...I could see that the lettering was disappearing off the page....so that empty pages were being left behind. It was at this point that I realized there were angels in the room. Mind you this was an enormous room....without deminisions...infinite so to speak...so there were an amazing number of angels...all doing the same thing....writing furiously in books...writing so fast that it seemed impossible that they could be writing anything legible. I also noticed that they each had two pens...one pen had ink...the other had blood (dont ask me how I know...just dont).

So now I return to my body and Im zooming at top speed down this huge hallway...it was then that I know (the way you know things in dreams) that when I reach the end of the hall way...Judgement Day has arrived. I can hear the massive doors crashing closed behind me...closer and closer...I can hear the cacophony of languages but each one an individual as well...and I can hear the Quran being recited and each page being turned...and the light shining down on it getting brighter and brighter.

It was here that I finally reached the end of the hallway...the angels all put down their pens and turned to look at me. Its impossible to believe that millions of beings could be that quiet...but you could hear the proverbial pin drop...the last page of the Quran was turned, recited, and emptied of lettering...and then the empty book that was the Quran no more...rose up off the pedestal up into the light...the angels all looked at it go...and they all had fearful looks on their faces...then all of them...all together...closed their books....even though they closed the books fairly reverently...and Im sure silently...the noise was non the less defeaning...and it was this noise that woke me from my sleep. The amazement I awoke with...still lives with me today...

So what do you think dear Readers...Im interested to hear what you think. The colors and sounds and the images I seen in this dream are like nothing Ive ever seen in Hollywoods best production. Everything was crystal clear and absolutely beautiful...the colors beyond technicolor and the sound effect....damn...dont get me started on the sound effects...it was surreal. Sometimes you just dont wanna wake up...sigh!

To Dream a Little Dream

Its been said that sleeping is a time of rest...downtime for all the stress and worries we have to carry throughout our waking hours. We lay our head on our pillows at night and just pray that the next 8 hours (give or take) are going to be peaceful and non eventful....but then something happens while we sleep. While our bodies get comfortable and prepare to do nothing more strenuous then the occasional turn or stretch...our minds are still on full steam ahead...windows to the soul...our subconcious getting a chance to flex some muscle...our secret desires made real...if only for a time...we call this dreaming. Dreams are not real...they cant affect our lives in any physical way....as soon as we open our eyes the dream is gone...its affects (good or bad) are like smoke...easy to see but without substance. We shake it off...climb out of bed and get on with the day...most dreams are forgotten almost as soon as we wake up...others might linger like forgotten memories for several hours ....and some stay with us for a lifetime. Never to be forgotten...as real to us as any actual memory we may have of an event that we took part in. I have 2 such dreams that have stayed with me long after I awoke shaking and disoriented...or awestruck and breathless. Everyone likes to interpret dreams...give their take on the "hidden message" thats trying to make itself known. We see either doom or good fortune depending on our present mood. Tell me what your interpretation are of these two dreams...lets see what we come up with.

I actually had these dreams in the same year. Ive never had anything even similar to them again...and nothing that was happening in my life at those particular moments seemed to warrant such memorable nocturnal theater. The first one occurred within the first year that I converted to Islam....not sure if that has anything to do with it...but I do know that I was not experiencing a crisis of faith similar to what I am now. If there was a time for that particular dream...now would be it.

Here goes...in this dream I am running from the Devil...or Shaitan as Muslims call him. If anyone ever saw the movie Legend with Tom Cruise...the devil in that movie...big red dude with very large horns...sharp teeth and hooves for feet...that is a fairly decent description of "my" Shaitan. Anyhow...Im running through a fairly barren city...its all destroyed as if a war happened. There arent any other people in this city and I can hear my own breath and stomping feet very clearly. While Shaitan is chasing me he is bellowing out the words "do you believe" over and over again. Each time he bellows those words...my whole body shivers and I want to just stop running and give up....but I keep running. I feel like my lungs will burst...and I can hear him getting closer and closer until Im sure he's close enough behind to touch me...so I run even faster. Eventually I run on to a bus and hide in the back seat. Shaitan finds me of course and comes crashing down the aisle...upsetting seats and he is so large that his horns are scraping the ceiling of the bus. This scraping sound has never left me...I hear it everywhere to this day...and always look around to see where its coming from...anyhow...Shaitan is still bellowing and coming closer and closer to me..."do you believe...do you believe?" He comes right up to my face until our noses are practically touching...screaming again and again..."do you believe!!!" I want to scream back at him that I do...but I hesitate because Im not sure what it is Im supposed to be believing. I have a sneaky feeling its a trick question and that the object I should believe in is Hell...and as soon as I say that I do believe in it...then I will quickly find myself there....so I hesistate....but just when I think my head will explode from the next bellowed "do you believe"...he changes his question to "is your faith strong enough?" As soon as he bellows out that new question...I wake up. Or should I say I jerk awake like someone just hit me with those paddles they use in emergency rooms to get the heart started again...but in this case my heart is pounding so damn hard I seriously feel that a heart attack is eminent. I have never been so afraid in my life...so afraid that I did not want to go back to sleep...and yet it was only a dream. I laid there for 2 hours until fajr prayer...and my heart was hammering the whole time...I was terrified...and still get rather edgy all these years later just to think about it.

I will tell you the other dream in the next post as this one is rather long as it is...let me know what you think dear readers...Im curious. Remember...I was not in fear of losing my deen...I didnt have doubts or unanswerable questions plaguing me like I do these days. I would say those were my best years as a Muslim really...new converts are soooo convinced and secure in their new beliefs...right...so why the dream questioning my faith? Did it mean anything...nothing...and why does it still affect me all these years later...if it was only a little dream?

If only I could just....breath!

I grew up in the mid-west and anyone that knows winters in the mid-west know that blizzards are one of the hazzards...as well as one of the benefits...to living there. I shall talk about the benefits to a good blizzard...from a purely personal point of view mind you.

When I was young fear was my constant companion...fear along with depression, anger, suspicion, anxiety, and just about every other negative feeling the human body can experience. While my friends were happy (Im guessing they were happy since their attitudes and facial expressions indicated thus) I was constantly considering the fact that I might not survive my childhood...and then later my teen years. I was constantly on a state of alert...in other words...most people might truly experience the "fight or flight" feeling once or twice in their lives...I lived with that feeling every day of my life....let me tell you...it was exhausting. Never being able to relax...never being able to let your guard down...I imagine if I ever went to war and was facing the battle field...I would already know and be familiar with that feeling that most soldiers experience just before the first shot is fired....the only difference being...I was a child.

When we talk about seasons and weather most people will describe Spring as being a time for re-newal and Winter as a time of death and decay. Alot of people with emtional and mental problems will fall into deep depressions during Winter...most of them shake it off somewhat when the first hints of Spring start showing up...but some of them just cant manage the cold, dark days of Winter and never make it to Spring...call me strange but I've always had a somewhat backward appreciation of Spring and Winter. For me Spring was a time when school was out...which meant I was home...home was a place of constant fear and anxiety...Winter, on the other hand, meant school was on and snow was just around the corner...and with snow came blizzards...my little bit of heaven on earth....let me explain.

When I was a child I use to lay in my bed at night and pretend to be dead...ok ok sounds morbid but there was a reason for it even if it doesnt make sense to all of you...it made sense to my childhood brain. If I were dead I would be in a position to meet God (I had learned in Bible school that all children got into heaven free from sin and guilt...so I was going on this assumption)..and when I met up with God I could ask Him why why why...the why's can be left for another time...sufficient to say I was anxious to get some answers and would spend a little bit of time each night (the nights that my bedroom door didnt open at some point) and lay there...holding my breath...clearing my mind....trying to "be"dead. Never worked of course because my mind could never be cleared (always always listening for that stealthy footstep in the hall) and eventually I had to breath...kind of ruined the whole experience....but I never gave up trying...where theres hope and all that....sigh!

Anyhow, along came Winter and I was one step closer to that much desired "death". Anyone that has ever experienced the morning after a good snowstorm knows that its a surreal feeling. Everything is white...all thats ugly is made beautiful...sharp corners are gone and all thats left is smooth powdery edges and intricate snow designs on every surface. I loved the mornings after a good blizzard. While the mid-west was lamenting blocked roads and kids were cheering schools closing and the electric companies were busy scrambling to bring us back to the 21st centurn....I was outside...acheiving my desire to be as close to dead as one can be while still breathing....picture this.

Snow is like a natural muffler....it muffles sound. The more snow there is the less we are able to correctly hear and gauge sound...where its coming from and how far away it is. Now...take a backwater country road...one intense blizzard the night before...and a young girl walking along in all this whiteness finally able to feel....nothing! When you walk through snow thats piled up higher than your head...you literally cannot hear anything except maybe the crunch of your feet as you walk. You get this specific sound in your head that I call White Noise...because it sounds like sound...but really...its the absence of sound...and its loud....but very soothing...very calming. If they could record that sound and put it on my MP3 player today...its all I would listen to...it would be all the therapy I ever needed. I forget how many times I would be ordered to go dig up some snowdrifts so my "father" could get out the door to work...and instead I would be lying in a snow tunnel listening to nothing and finally being able to pretend to be dead...and not have to hold my breath...because I imagined being dead meant not thinking...not hearing...not worrying...not dreading, fearing, hurting, crying, shaking, or any other "ing" you can think of...and when I laid in the snow tunnel...all feeling was shut off....just like that. I didnt even have to try...it just happened....all negative feelings just oozed off into the snow to be made clean and sparkly again...to be made beautiful...even if underneath it was still ugly. I sometimes wondered if anyone came out to find me if they would think I was actually dead...but with a smile on my face...cause I was so peaceful...Winter was my Spring....anyhow.

One thing about living in the Middle East is that its been rather a long time since a good blizzard swept through...and its just about the one thing I have missed the most...the re-juvinating spiritually cleansing abilites of a good snow storm on the soul...that absence of sound...that complete white out of the senses....when all feeling is gone...for just a little while...and one can relax...calm down...and just breath.

I wish you could understand....someday.

When I was pregnant with you I honestly thought one of your feet would eventually protrude from my belly button due to your nightly bouts of martial arts you took delight in practicing. Almost like clockwork...8 pm...I could count on you not to disappoint me by being late. I knew..the way mothers know things...that you were going to be just as much of a handful after birth as before...and I was right about that. Im sad to admit that Im not right about much in life...but when I am...its not always a good thing.

Since you were small, baby boy, Ive struggled coming to terms with your fierce independence and your need to assert yourself. You were constantly letting go of my hand...wanting to take on something new...hardly ever showing fear...hardly ever looking back to see if I was safely near by. My heart ached that you could so easily just....let go.

As you have matured I couldnt help but notice that your numbered age in no way indicated your maturity level. You have always been an "old soul"...a mature and self reliant "man" in a little boys body. I sometimes have to remind myself that you are still just a boy. When you speak your words are strong and thoughtful. When you argue your self assured and determined....but when your angry your somewhat erratic and often out of control....and I fear this one area in your life in which you seem to have no control over....your anger.

I have watched this fire burning within you son...watched it grow and consume everything around you...everything within you. The emotional trauma that has this family upside down has never been your burden to bear...and yet you bear is as if its your responsibility. It was never your responsibility. Your father let us down...he let himself down...he started that fire in you...as easily as an arsonist lights a house fire and walks away...only to come back later and gloat over the destruction he caused. I thought when I kicked him out I was getting rid of the problem...but I have come to realize that maybe his physical presence is gone...but he is "still here"...and he is still tearing this family apart.

We have all suffered and been affected in our own ways by the evil that touched us, son. We each have our burdens to bear and must work our ways through them as best we can. Your sisters will need help for the rest of their lives...Im sure you dont understand that because you have never been a female in this male dominated society...you've never been a rape victim....you've never been a victim of incest by your father. I know you want to help your sisters in whatever way possible...but in order to help them you need to try and understand them. Their bodies have healed...but their minds will forever suffer what he did to them...believe me...I know. We cant just demand that they get better and they do...we cant just say that "Im here for you" and that be enough...we cant just act like the past is the past...and leave it at that. I sent them away from here because I know first hand what this society does to girls in their situation...and you know it too...but your being stubborn and letting your anger control you. Yes...I could bring them back...if I wanted to...but I dont want to. Even though I miss them so much...even though I want to hear them laughing...and arguing...and see them dancing to music or coming from the shower...or getting home from school or work and telling me about their day. I miss them son....the same as my mother has missed me all these long years that I have been separated from her...but I made the choice to send them away...because I believe that the suffering we will do while we are apart...is small compared to the benefit they will get from leaving this place that has caused them so much grief and given them burdens they should never have been given...or you and your brothers....or me.

We each deal with pain and loss in our own ways....we can only react to a situation from our own points of view...you see from your eyes...and I see from mine....and as much as I know that you are mature and honest and far seeing on many things in life...in this one you are being extremely short sighted and immature. You want things back the way they use to be and that is impossible. Time doesnt stand still and it certainly doesnt rewind itself...if that were the case I would have been busy rewinding time long ago...in hopes of undoing the damage that has been done. We can only live in the here and now. We can say "what if" or "if only" or even "lets wait and see"...but in the end...whether you make a decision to act...or stand still and do nothing...time takes the decision and moves on...and you move on with it.

I apologize son for every instance in which I have failed you and your brothers and sisters. I apologize for the pain I wasnt able to deflect from you...from the fear or anger I wasnt able to deminish with the correct words of wisdom...I apologize for being indecisive when a firm hand was needed in many instances...and I apologize for being completely at a loss at times and not knowing which way to turn to find the answer. I apologize for many things son and I hope you will forgive me...but I will not apologize for making the decision to send your sisters to a better life...I put aside my selfish desires to keep them here with me just to make myself happy and satisfied...in order to bring some relief to them and get them the help they need so desparately. It huts now to be separated from them...but the benefits will far outshine this hurt...when they are on the road to healing themselves spiritually and mentally from the damage they have suffered. I wish you could see this son...I wish you could understand that I sent them away to make them whole again...even if the price that is paid is to make all of us miserable and lost. Even if the sacrifice made is isnt quite clear just yet...I know it will be worth it. All I can ask of you is patience...sometimes the things we want dont come to us right away...sometimes they dont come to us at all...and sometimes they come to us in ways we least expect...but we should never just wait for it to happen...but take steps to help it along.

I read in a medical book once that doctors will sometimes cut away perfectly healthy skin and muscle in order to prevent cancer from spreading...they have to be somewhat ruthless in order to be sure the cancer doesnt leave even one small cell behind for the growth to come back. In the short term the wound they make seems horrific...they have made it even bigger than it was...in the long term...they saved a patients life. Sometimes we have to be ruthless and make the decision to make the wound bigger...in order for it heal properly...and not come back to cause problems again in the future...I hope you understand that...if not now...then someday...and if you dont....all I can say is...Im sorry.

How can you mend a broken heart...?

Last night I had one of the worst headaches Ive ever experienced. I ended up taking quite a bit of pain reliever before it would even touch the pain...but eventually the medication worked and the pain eased up...and all was well again. That particular pain was quickly forgotten once it was gone...I was strolling the new City Center Mall within hours....how easy we forget.....sigh!

Another pain that is easy to forget once the moment has passed is the pain of childbirth. Ive had 5 children...during one of those births I nearly died...as well as my son....but I went on to have 3 more children after him...why...because as soon as you hold your child in your arms...its the best form of pain relief there is. Nothing compares....and the pain fades into the back ground.

However...the real pain of childbirth comes after...when you take that baby home and start the lifelong process of raising, nurturing, worrying, hoping, praying, failing, and feeling guilty for just about every mistake made (real or imagined) all the while riding just about every other emotional rollercoaster that can be endured. One of the scariest rides your ever likely to live through...and most of the time you feel like your riding it alone.

I realize that fathers love their children (pardon me if I say "some" fathers...personal experience talking)...but the mothers love is something else all together. If your a mother you know what I mean. That child is a part of your body...he shared your blood...slept to the tune of your heartbeat....had a vote on whether that last meal was acceptable to all concerned. In order to enter this world he had to tear and forever destroy whatever youthful figure you once had...but you dont complain...you grit your teeth and push out your greatest joy...and your most painful heartache....a heartache that last from the moment you realize your pregnant...until you draw your last breath...a pain that no amount of pain reliever can touch.

After watching them grow and develop...from rolling to crawling to walking then running...every moment that passes in your childs life is a moment that brings you closer to when they will eventually use that momentum to leave you (or you them depending on the situation)....but eventually...the heart breaks...never to be mended completely because your child comes to the erroneous conclusion that he doesnt need you anymore....that he "is a man" and can probably do just as well without you.

Once you hear those words...or maybe not exactly those words but the meaning comes through loud and clear...you are left with one thought echoing over and over again in your mind...how can you possibly mend this broken heart? Temporary lovers come and go...husbands hopefully drop dead (either before or after the divorce...Im not choosy here)...but children are supposed to be forever. That mother child bond is eternal...yes? So why is it so damn easy for a child to grab those independent scissors and cut those maternal strings without so much as a look back to see what damage was caused? Dont they realize the squeezing of the heart only gets tighter and tighter and will never ever loosen up....dont they know that sleepless nights worrying about your future and the million and one things can go wrong with it are your nightly companions...have they ever considered that your pain is my pain...your fears are my fears....your hopes and dreams are my hopes and dreams...but with an added twist...I will gladly sacrifice my hopes...my dreams...to protect you from your pain and fears....I know you dont understand this...I know you can never understand this....

until you have a child of your own...then you will understand...then maybe you can advise me on how to mend this broken heart...cause I havent got a clue.

How do you find what you lost....?

There is a process we go through once we realized we've lost something...whether it be keys...a receipt...even our car in a multi storey carpark. We first try to remember the last place we saw that item...look there...if its not there then we think of where it must be if its not in its usual place...basically we backtrack until the lost item is eventually found. Most lost items are found either by diligent searching or completely by accident (I once found the remote for the tv in the fridge...much questioning among the household members did not reveal how it came to be there)...but sometimes...things once lost...stay lost.

When we lose something that really has no value to us...such as a hat...or maybe a pair of sunglasses...we may spend a moment in private self recriminations on how can we be so scattered or empty headed when it comes to keeping our things where we can find them...but then we move on with our lives. A lost glove or pair of glasses does not end the world....but what happens when we've lost something that needs to be found? What happens when finding that missing thing is detrimental to our future...to our psyche...to our inner equalibrium and belief in who we are...what happens when lost things stay lost?

Of course we know that somethings just cant be found...cant be gotten back once lost...the most obvious thing being "time". A minute lost is lost forever...our youth once gone is gone. Many people have gone searching for youth...they imagine they've found it with the purchase of a new red sport car or a new young girlfriend or wife (holds true for women I suppose as well...all though I dare say women generally dont look for youth in a motor vehicle or young lover...but I could be wrong). However, what do we do when we lose something that could possibly be found again...we just dont know where to look? We cant really remember where the last place we saw it was...or even when? How do you find something that your not sure where you were when you lost it...and dont know where to look in order to find it again?

See...heres the thing....Ive lost God...Ive spent considerable time searching for God...looked in all the usual places I often found God before...like in prayer...or in the Quran. I searched diligently in those areas but came up with nothing...God wasnt there. I searched in the mosque but that seems to be the last place I would find God since women arent generally accepted in the mosque here (other then Ramadan or Eid...go figure) so how can I adequately search for God in a place Im not even welcome for the most part? I tried looking for God among my fellow Muslims...but all I found was large doses of hypocrisy and self righteousness...of women haters and kafir bashers...I found jihadists and extremists and Muslims in name only...but I didnt find God...I heard God might have been there just before I arrived...but was long gone by the time I made the scene...I still looked around...hoping to catch a glimpse...no luck.

Last but hopefully not least...I searched for God within me. I lay in bed at night and just search my mind..my heart...my soul...looking for even the faintist piece of evidence that God is there...or was there...or might be there again. Ive left no "stone" unturned...Ive called out to God...cried for God...even cursed and blamed God for being lost in the first place...God must be pretty far away cause apparently God didnt hear me...at least I didnt get the sense God heard me while I laid there...holding my breath...straining my ears...trying to hear even the merest of whispers that God was somewhere near by....nothing....Im guessing I must be pretty empty inside these days cause mostly I just get echoes back when I call out to God...sigh!

Ive lost God dear readers...has anyone seen God...maybe let me no where I might have left Him? Its very important that I find God as I have somethings to tell Him...somethings to confess to Him...and I admit...Im in need for some answers from God as well. Or must I believe that this is just one of those things that can never be found again...once God is lost...He's lost forever?...anyone?