Leading A Prayer, Finding My Faith

At the start of Ramadhan, my mother was keen on going to the local mosque for tarawih prayers, which are special prayers held during the holy month. After going back and forth between the wanting to go and the reluctance to go due to the large crowds, I’d volunteered to lead the prayers at home instead. 

The moment the words came out of my mouth I almost regretted them. 

It is recommended to pray as a congregation, with an ‘imam’ who leads the prayer. While the imam is usually a male member of the congregation, if the congregation is all female, then one of the females can lead the prayer instead. 

I’m not the most religious person around. I try, but my imperfections are many, so part of me feels the inadequacy of leading a prayer. 

It had been many years since I had done so for various reasons, and as I raised my hands in takbir, I felt my heart constrict at the responsibility. While there is always something very personal in the act of prayer, the realization that I had to lead this congregation, even if it was just my mother and my sister, made me a lot more conscious in my actions and my words. 

It was a good reminder about the things we take for granted. Prayers is one of the tenets of Islam, and between those and the other pillars, it builds the foundation to our faith. By leading that prayer that particular day, I felt as if I had stepped into a role that highlighted how important it was to understand for myself the act of prayer that we do almost habitually every day. It reminded me that it was something more than habit, that these gestures and these words that I had undergone had meaning to them. It forced me to concentrate, and evaluate myself, and my understanding and readiness. 

For the lack of words, I am almost unable to phrase how it made me feel, except for the fact that it humbled me to no end. 

And I am thankful for that.

The Prayer

"Aida, come pray."

It was such a simple request, but what struck me was the fact that it had been so long since I had done jemaah prayers with my parents.

I had not been home for seven years, and in this short span of time that I've returned, we had all had our own busy schedules and my prayers were usually solitary, quick prayers in between the rush of my daily activities. My parents tended to jemaah most times, but I was not always back from work early, or often had plans, and my father had a tendency to frequent our local surau. 

I forget how emotional the act of jemaah prayers can be for me. How much I feel like part of the family unit, how we are strong and united by His love. I forget how touching it can be to hear my father utter our names in his prayers for us, and it is all too easily to forget that my parents pray for us, their children, five times a day every day. 

I am blessed to be loved so much.