Spiritual love

Meeting an angel

Cold night leaped in. I love the aroma of snowflakes entwined over pines. They look aesthetically cloud-white and milky. It's 4:30 in the morning, and I lay on my praying mat, sitting and prevailing closely, honoring how beautifully Allah has shaped the world.

Allah, I'm meaningfully very grateful to you for your tremendous blessings. I love your timing. I love how you mended all of my shattered pieces back in one frame. You truly loved me when I had no one to look after me. You held me, grasped me, and wiped all my tears and soreness from life. You brought flavors and tints into my life when my cowered hollow heart thought that I would never be able to see the rainbow again. My heart is overwhelmed by your affection. Allah, you are so merciful and kind, and uplifting. You tidied up my cynical heart with your light and fill it with your creditability. I swear to you, there is no one better than you. There is absolutely no one as worthy as you. You have nurtured my life. You have made me humble, patient, powerful, and precisely pure. I wish I could cuddle you for all the love you have heaped on me. I wish I could clamber up to seven heavens merely right away just to prostrate in front of you and to let you know that you are the best gift I have ever attained. Oh, my sweet lord, my words certainly can not sum up to anything that corresponds to what you have favored me. When I look around, all I see is you. Everything reminds me of you, for instance, a soft influential tongue speaking to me, a gentle helping hand reaching out to me, an act of kindness in shallowness, and righteous vitreous companions to live life with. It feels as if my eyes have worn goodness only. Keep reminding me of you. Keep me closer to your heart. Keep me in your great graces for eternity. You are everything I want Allah, everything I need to survive and breathe, and everything I need for my hereafter. My beloved Allah, I will meet you very soon, and I can not wait to see you momentarily through my sights just to appreciate you exorbitantly.

I stood up, creased my prayer mat, and put it under my backpack. I took a warm cozy shower, getting ready for my scheduled surgery. I wore a scrub and headed into the kitchen, making exquisitely delicious pancakes and oatmeal with a cup of frothy coffee. It tastes simply delightful. I grabbed my lab coat, keys, stethoscope, and license card, of course, and sprung to the hospital before It gets late. I would not prefer to see my patients in a queue, standing and waiting up for me. It's very impolite and unfair.

Samantha Jain entered the room, doubting my permission to come in.

"Dr, may I come in?"

"Well, yes, of course. Come on in." I advocated.

"What brought you here today?" I interrogated profoundly.

"Well, I have been encountering epilepsy lately, and I do not understand what is happening to me. Can you please help me out?" She illustrated grief.

"Isn't that the reason why I am here for you? Let's see what I can do for you. I would need to run some tests and an encephalogram to figure out the reason why neurons are barring. Here are some test lists. You can take the right, and then go down the hallway to get it done. Bring me the test reports so I can jot down the right medicines for you. " I guided her.

"Dr, I'm afraid I can not afford to pay for these tests." she bursts.

I couldn't heed this. I couldn't see her begging me. My eyes swelled red. I can not see anyone imploring me. Maybe, this is how my heart has been acclimated; to never see anyone in misery.

"When you go to the laboratory, tell them that it would be under my name and they won't dare to charge you a penny," I reassured her.

"Thank you, thank you so much, doctor. I shall never forget this." she grasped my hand.

"It's alright, Samantha. Get them done, and you know where to find me." I alleviated.

She took off, leaving me in a contemplative state about why the lord only gave me the chance to help her out. She could have gotten help from anyone else, but why did Allah only choose me? Well, you know, you can never perceive the plans of your lord, but one day, when I will greet Him, and see Him with my sights, I will ask Him about why He kept giving me the serendipity of being in everyone's good decency. What did He find the most absolute about me when I'm remorseful and the wrongdoer? I am not a better person, never have been, then why me? Do you ponder that I'm noteworthy in your gaze when I know I'm not in anyone else? Nobody has ever loved my heart more than you.