A man who solely works for Allah, requested everyone in the hall to recite Surah Al-Fatehah, specially dedicated to his wife. Softly and sincerely, he expressed his love to her.
He said she was
his Khadijah.
He said that if someone else became his wife, she would have left him long time ago.
He said that his wife stood by him through all obstacles of life in spreading Islam.
He said she endured every single hardships with him.
They spent their honeymoon not in a hotel, but slept on a bus, in order for him to seek knowledge from 'Ulama.
He said she did not complain when they got no food to eat.
He said she accepted that he got nothing in the bank. All his earnings were spent on upholding Islam.
He said he was the most fussy man, but his wife took care of him just like his mother did.
He said she was the love of his life.
He said he could afford only this gift -
DU'A.
The wife sat at one corner, listened and wept.
And everyone in the hall recited Surah Al-Fatehah specially for her.
That was my Ustaz's gift for his wife's birthday.
MasyaAllah, isn't?
His sincerity of love to his wife moved my heart.
He mentioned that she was
his Khadijah.
His Khadijah.
And Khadijah was Rasulullah's s.a.w. love.
Subhanallah.
If my husband told me, sincerely and full of love, that I, was
his Khadijah. I could faint. I could be in cloud nine. I could be in Heaven.
But reality check. What have I done so far to deserve that saying, from my husband?
Nothing.
I am far from being
his Khadijah.
I am nothing and I have nothing.
I am a pauper who needs his blessings in order to be blessed by Allah.
But what I have for him, is my love, for the sake of Allah.
Allah makes him, my man, my Imaam.
Alhamdulillah.
