True Story of a brother
Since I was born I suffered from Exema [Eczema] on my hands and arms and now I am 22 years of age and still suffering from such disease. Alhamdulelah it goes for a while but it comes back infected and inflamed.
I always looked around me and saw other people’s hands and arms in perfect condition and I would go back home and cry so much that my tears would fill a bucket. I was bullied so much in Secondary School because of my Exema and I was treated like dirt and abused because of my belief in Islam. One day in class I cried for over an hour my eyes stung because of the class saying abusive things to me and the teacher did NOTHING because he hated my faith which was apparent.
Since I was small I always held the Quran each night and begged Allah for my suffering to end. Even as I write this my eyes are full of tears.
As I grew up my passion to marry grew. I always wanted to have a child to raise for
the mercy of Allah. But because of my suffering from Exema that always stopped me from marrying.
One day in College I saw a really beautiful Sister in Hijab from Lebanon (I think) and I wanted to marry her, but because of my Exema I thought she would not want to even look at me. By Allah, through Halal ways she rejected me which I feel in my heart was because of my hands.
I feel so alone sometimes. I suffer SO much that I cannot go outside unless my sleeves of my shirt cover most of my hands. I cannot make Salat in the Masjid without worrying that someone is going to look at my hands and not want to shake them or that they will give me a bad look. I cannot eat outside or be with my friends without feeling worried that they are going to see my hands.
When I do Wudu with water, my hands sting so much I cry. After Wudu I will make my Salat trying to blot out the pain that I am going through with my hands.
I feel no Muslim Sister will ever marry me
but I try to keep strong about it. My only wife I want is a wife of Paradise. I wish I was with Prophet Ayub (AS) as he suffered alot and I would not feel alone as he would be with me worshiping Allah.
My only dream now is to work hard and to die only for Allah.
Please Brothers and Sisters of Islam make Du’a for me and for all Muslims suffering from illness’s that they keep strong.
I take this as a blessing from Allah as Allah tests those whom he truly loves.
About three year ago I was sinking into severe depression. I was suffering so much and everything was just sinking deeper and deeper. I would stay up every night just worshipping Allah, begging him for mercy and help.
I really thought that Allah abandoned me and hated me.
Then one summer was a summer I would never forget. For six weeks in a row I had dreams that words would never be able to describe in 100% detail.
The dreams are too much to mention. But one of the first
was when I was standing on a red land, and then two Muslim men with large dark beards approached me. They asked me do I want to see Hell? I said to them yes. They smiled and I then followed them.
In front of me was like a Hugh head with a wide open mouth. I can still picture this in my mind but I can never really describe it as it was so detailed. We went through its mouth and in it were all types of chambers of black fire. I saw people lying on their bellies on beds of spikes penetrating though their bodies while they were screaming.
Another chamber I saw people being crushed again and again in fire.
Another I saw their limbs being pulled off.
After a few more chambers we left and one of the Muslim’s said to me, “Is your life worse than what you saw?” I said, “By Allah, no.”
The best dream is of Prophet Muhammad (salla Allaahu ‘alayhi wa salaam). In the dream I was sitting in a dark room crying. Suddenly a gold door appeared in front of
me. The door said to me, “Don’t cry and come inside.”
When I went in, I was in such a beautiful garden. There were all sorts of flowers and different coloured streams of water and honey. I heard laughing and talking further on, so I walked through this garden, and each step I took the garden just got more beautiful and different in colour. I saw a really bright gold table with food I have never seen before on this table. There were sweets and different shapes of fruit on the table. There were also crystal cups with drinks with at least 100 different shades of colour.
Sitting around the table were all extremely handsome looking Muslims. I saw one Muslim holding a staff in his right hand so I was thinking that could be Musa (‘AlyheeSalaam), and then another Muslim I saw with long wavy hair with pearls falling from his head, so I was thinking that was ‘Isa (‘AlyheeSalaam). There were at least 100 Muslims around this table. At the head of the table a Muslim
turned around and faced me. Mashahallah I will never forget his face. His eyes were darker than black pearls and there was a beautiful light shining from his face. As he smiled at me I felt this warmth and this sweet smelling musk go over my body.
He said Salam to me and called me by my full name. I asked him who he was. He said, “I am the final Messenger of Allah and my name is Muhammad Ibn Abdullallah (salla Allaahu ‘alayhi wa salaam). I want you to sit next to me.”
A gold chair appeared next to him so I sat there facing him. He took my hand in his hand. It felt so warm and nice. He said something that even made me cry in my sleep. He said, “Dont cry because of the hardships of this life. Cry for the forgiveness of Allah. Don’t cry and feel sad for Allah will never leave you alone to suffer. He is with the believer who calls his name. He smiles to the believer who repents. He loves the believer who runs to him in struggle. And on The Day that is coming, you will see how much love and comfort He gives to those Muslims who suffered for Him.”
I closed my eyes and then I woke up with tears all down my face