Wings
I am small, my wings are broken.
My words shake like my hands.
But I will lift my voice to the One who understands.
Islam, Autism, Mom-ism.
I am small, my wings are broken.
My words shake like my hands.
But I will lift my voice to the One who understands.
Iman: Momma, your hands are shaking! Me: Yes, they do that sometimes dear. Iman: I’ll stop it for you! :holds my hand: That’s my girl.
I just finished six hours of class- possibly the best class I’ve ever taken- called The Unfolding Dream with Shaykh Sajid Umar. It would not be correct to say it is the Tafseer of Surah Yusuf- because Tafseer only scratches the surface. Six hours… and we’ve…
RB: The kids have really messed up the living room walls. I think there’s even a game of tic-tac-toe behind that sofa…
LB: Eh- You could be dying, why should you care about what the house looks like?
RB: Just because I could be dying doesn’t mean I need to die in squalor.
LB: You’ll be dead, how will you know if it’s squalor?…
If you hate Barney (you know you do) and you wish there were intelligent, adorable, totally halal, and well-written cartoons for children that also happened to be ISLAMIC!!! (talk about unrealistic expectations, hunh?) then I have bad news for you: There are only five days…
A heart so torn will bleed, and bleeding so congeals- That a darkened outer covering will block the touch that heals…
So HF was in a fender-bender today. He was stopped at a signal and someone ran into the back of his car hard enough to crash his into the next stopped car. Alhamdulillah, he’s alright and as he cheerfully mentioned: the car needed new bumpers…