mrislam

Being back in my “home” country, we pass by old places we know. Riding by our old house, I was in the car listening to a lecture podcast from Shaykh Omar Suleiman, when my Mom started strongly telling me and my brother (who was also on his phone) to look up.

I complied, and she was telling us, Oh, we used to live in that house! And that's the road! It feels like we're back here again!

I really didn't feel any of the sentiment she was feeling. It's a house. And bearing on hope fleeting this life is, the four years we spent there are worth nothing.

But the way my mom was freaking out... We existed before we came to this world, and or true home is the Garden. We are physically of this world, but our true essence is ethereal.

We are travellers passing by something insignificant in the big picture. We take off it what is beneficial, and we leave all that is unnecessary (which is most of it).

So having such a bond to a place that does not matter saddened me. May Allah most high prevent us from being deluded by this world.