Oh Allah.
I remember the Ramadans before I got married. How they would be filled with night prayers, reading Qur’an, supplications into the breaking of dawn. My time was free and I was able to dedicate it to worship.
I remember my Ramadan after You blessed me with my first born… a beautiful daughter. How I still managed to fill my nights with prayers, reading Quran and supplication. Having one baby and being a single mum was manageable.
I remember the Ramadan after I gave birth to my youngest of two boys and I wept. That must have been my worst Ramadan ever. Time escaped me, I was so tired all the time. I could barely get through the days. The Ramadan’s that followed as they grew have blurred into one. I did not feel I offered in worship what I had yearned to. The ‘mum guilt’ kept burning me up inside.
Oh Allah, how I wish this Ramadan will be better than the last few years. I want to make You happy. I want to really get the essence of Ramadan and why it was prescribed for us, and pass it on to my children.
Now I know, as a mother of young children, that it’s not just about reading Qur’an all day and praying all night, because I can’t do that anymore in the same way I used to.
Oh Allah, I’m not able to think how I’m going to worship You the best way this Ramadan, with two little boys who demand so much of me.
