Sabirah

 

Alhamdulillah… I was born a Muslim. Although I did not know that I was raised as a Catholic Christian. I used to have a lot of worries because I didn’t have answers to my questions.

There was something constant in my life, which originated from the existence of God. Sometimes, the question (especially since childhood); “God, where are you?” It used to happen to me and it was left unanswered.

It’s like being cut off from a branch. My mother used this sentence (which of course she still says): go to church once a week, pray, and then leave completely “full of God”. show”.

I was sick for a while, until I got epilepsy at the age of 12, which was manageable. I got married and had a child at the age of 22. Due to epileptic seizures and exhausting treatments, I seemed to have lost 11 years of my life’s memories.

From the memories of my 16-year-old daughter, I remembered her until she was 5 years old.

I got pneumonia and that day my lungs stuck together, my liver failed and I fell into a coma. physicians  They brought me to my senses and supported me to continue my life. They told my family that I would probably not survive more than three days. I did not know that “I was supposed to die” and Alhamdulillah I survived!

I had been working as an office manager for a few years and now I needed a change in my life. When I got into this situation, I was looking for someone to consult in private. And to ask God again: “Where is it?”

The main reason for my resignation was a phrase from the Bible that said: “Ask.”  You will arrive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened for you.

At that time I made a “deal with God”, and that I quit my job. And I promised that after 10 days of worship I will return home to find God.

How great! God, I found a letter in my mailbox for a visit to Israel.

I saw Arabs and Muslims in Israel.

“The roudd less traveled” had begun for me. I was happy to have stepped in it.

After my first 10-day pilgrimage, I agreed to return to Israel for a 28-day period to worship, get to know and gain a better understanding of God and myself. When the plane landed, I walked all over the Ben-Gurion airport pushing the trolley in which I had put my luggage. I didn’t know what would happen to me alone in Central Asia! A window into an incredibly beautiful world. It was opened to me, like a view of the desert. Palm trees and people who spoke strange languages such as Hebrew and Arabic, none of which I understood at all.

My trip from Ben Gurion Airport to Jerusalem was my first wonderful experience of coming to my true nature.

The bright blue sky and gentle breezes remind me of home.

After one day, out of my 11-day stay, I left Deir Tabor in Jerusalem.

My 40th birthday was the exact day that the 50th anniversary of the order of Feranciscan friars took place with a celebration and fireworks planned for both of us!

In general, the unique view of the desert  and to traverse it towards Deer Hermon had become my daily pastime. Goats and sheep with their bells were jumping to and fro in Tabor. the birds that made noise and sang; Their daily songs were like the sunrise. Although it was summer, the weather was springy. The petals of the flowers were instead the markers that marked the pages of my prayer books and journals.

Once again, I cannot fully explain the things that existed and the events that were related to me. I felt; It’s like something is calling me.

After Deir Tabor and the (newly renovated) Transfiguration Church, I went down to Deir Carmel. Ah… the Mediterranean horizon full of colors  It is blue/green.

I lived with the Carmelite sisters and nuns in St. Terese. At that time I was a layman attached to the Carmelite monks. Our duty was to perform 5 times of worship every day (during prayer times) “Liturgy of the hours”, which mainly included David’s psalms and constant rituals, bowing, etc., which was very similar to praying (Salaat). So we would get up with the sunrise. I would ask myself about the miracles and wonders that surrounded me each time. I was there to receive the Lady of Deir Carmel and 3 days later the ceremony of St. Elias came. The Elias Cave was located on the mountainside, overlooking the ocean. Jews and Muslims camped for a week outside the huge courtyard in front of Deir. Every year there was an elaborate celebration for the prophet Elijah, who fought for the people of Baal, right where Deir Carmel is located. Today, the temple of Baal still stands near Deir Carmel.

The two weeks I was there, I didn’t know what to do. Late Carmel was like a dream to me at that time. I was called to the US embassy and they said, “Even though it looks like you want to stay here, why didn’t you change your ticket?”

Going to Jerusalem was scary. I did not know the city. I never saw the small alleys in the old city of Al-Quds that were around my path; I could not find There was a wonderful view of Notre Dame from the city coffee shop. I used to sit there and look at the minarets  And I was looking at the remaining towers of the old city. My gaze was full of stone domes… How beautiful!

After four days with my supervisor, we were searching the streets to find a hotel in a new place that they had reserved for me. Walking around the nested alleys of Quds was like a tangled mess. I knew a small house run by Arab spiritual sisters, I went there and gathered all my furniture. A little sister who was Arab said to me there: “I’m sorry, we don’t have a room.” But you can leave your luggage with us while you look for a place around the city.” Then, I passed by one of the very old stone streets that always overlooked the Holy Wall.

As darkness covered everywhere  And it was nowhere to be seen, in a dream-like state I remembered the words of the Psalms; Although an army surrounds me, I should not be afraid. (God) thou art with me”.

My luggage was lost, and I could not find my way back to the house where I had been in the morning.

I struggled down a dirt street, through a door that was built into a familiar wall; I saw. Strangely, the same entrance door was open last night.

An Arab nun, who seemed to have been informed of my arrival, said: “You are not Sabina?” Someone told me you were here this morning! Come, we have a place for you”. Thus, the coming months of sharing meals with other travelers (who became my “Jerusalem friends” for the next 7 years), washing clothes by hand with singing and hanging them on the roof to dry, bargaining in the Souq and travel to the city  In order to attract more points, I would get more points.

Lena, my roommate was Swedish. On weekends, he worked at a mental health program in the Gaza Strip and studied Arabic. While I had learned about the deplorable situation in Palestine, I made a firm decision to learn Arabic. When my visa was revoked, it meant that I had to say “goodbye” and take a long flight back to the United States of America. After a short time returning to my home, I found myself in Quds. I didn’t have enough money, so it was time to stay in Quds Aziz for the rest of my life. I knew every face, every smile, every shop owner and merchant in the Souq. I was known as the “beautiful woman” who wore the beautiful primitive Jalabib.

Also, because I had learned to “check and bargain with them in the best way”, I was known as “The hard woman”. I used to live in a dormitory (for 50 cents per night) and I used to meet Ismail, who became my teacher for learning Arabic. I didn’t know this at that time, but the words that Ismail taught me to write were things like “name” or “owner” or “alard”. He said: “Sabina, the best way to learn Arabic is with the Quran.”

I did not know what was found in the Quran! I had a very brief acquaintance with Islam. Ismail always said: Sabina, your belief is beautiful and you love God! Don’t let anyone harm the fact that there is only one God.” “Don’t forget Sabina… God is one”.

The situation almost changed. I had lived in the fence of the old city walls. My little room looked like a cave made of stone with an arched ceiling. Winters were cold and wet. In spring, the country was covered with colors, in summer, the heat of the air was oppressive and full of colorful narrative that was no less than spring. One year, a priest I knew climbed the olive trees in the Paster Noster cave that belonged to the Carmelite Sisters. I remember clearly that I was a member of the Carmelite Catholics, but I was considering entering a Palestinian/Israeli monastery. Life in the monastery was beautiful.

The olive trees, grape vines, pomegranate bushes, fig trees, plum trees and the vegetable garden growing outside my cell window were wonderful.

The bells of life were constantly ringing. Every day, we worshiped 5 times a day. And in the summer at the same time when the call to prayer was called by Muslims. A life that was full of spirituality, unique and precise.

It gave me a lot of peace and more time for careful thinking. All the time I was in Dir, I was thinking about God. I was under the influence of a supernatural and different power… I thought, “Where is God?” Now I know that He will never leave me, even for a moment, Masha’Allah.

Life in Dir was normal for the other nuns, but I felt that my life needed to get out of there and into another realm. Although it was the first day of the rest of my life, it became a sad day for me when I left Deir.

I returned to Jerusalem on Yom Kippur. After a short visit from the United States, I returned to Jerusalem again…”for the rest of my life”.

In the last phase of my life in Quds, I lived in the episcopal office of the Syrian Muslim neighborhood in East Jerusalem. The Arab/Syrian Christians were very suspicious of the Muslims and I used to tell them, “Make sure all the doors and windows are secure and lock them when night falls, because they (the Muslim neighbors) will come stealthily and They will cut our throats while we sleep!”

At that time I was working hard, I was a “foolish American”; Because I had no fear of Muslims, they were my friends. I took care of a Muslim woman and children who came to our guest house. I also cleaned most of the bedrooms in the guest house, washed the floors and swept the countless stairs by hand, and at least once a week, I swept all 16 flights of stairs. I had to know how to wash all the sheets every morning and hang them on the roof.

I preferred to go to the roof for prayer right after waking up.

At around 4:30 in the morning, I would go to the roof and look out over the old city. My beloved Jerusalem! Your stone dome is a sign that you will live forever in my heart! I had learned to copy everything I saw and write in Arabic.

One day I saw something on the wall of a coffee shop and fell in love with it. I copied from it. It was so beautiful that my fingers wrote it all without stopping to memorize it.

Every morning, I used my fingertips to write those words in the blue sky. Immediately, I asked my Muslim friends about what I had written.

And they said; which is a surah, Surah Falaq”. Kamil, a dear friend, suggested I go to the Souq and get a copy of the Quran, so I went there.

The first thing I looked for was Surah Falaq. And I read; “In the name of the Merciful and Merciful God. All creatures look for a ruler to take refuge in at dawn. “… just as I had written with my finger in the sky!

“From the evil of the devil that he created”… and it seemed to me that they were patrolling soldiers of Jerusalem.

“And from the evil of darkness, when it comes”… What did that mean, my Muslim friends who: “stealingly cut off our heads”?! Street riots and evil riots!

“And from the evil of those who practice witchcraft, and from the evil of the envious, when he is jealous”… Envious… what does the envious do?

Little did I know about the powers that God had shown me the least. There were beautiful days after the work was done, but because I had used harsh chemicals, my hands and feet were sore and calloused.

Eventually, when I used them too much, my dry skin would crack, bleed and peel.

If I stood motionless on my feet for a long time, they would become numb; So that when I started walking single, this work was painful for me. My sandals were always bloody from walking and irritating the cracks.

I noticed that shopkeepers and sellers of manufactured products were avoiding me. I looked like a beggar and someone who had a rotten skin. The only thing that helped me forget my pain was looking at the children who were passing through the narrow streets of Deir Elias and exiting Ain Al-Karim and sitting on top of the rock overlooking Wadi Naseri and Al-Jalil.  They threw themselves into the water.

Tiberius and the travel boat that brings happiness along the Sea of Galilee! Dead Sea, where I used to go swimming.

It’s awesome! How great… life was rough and beautiful…

After performing the Mass, I would go to my house, the episcopal office, which was at the bottom of the dirt streets. One night while I was walking with a deadly pain, I said to God: “My God, are you here?” do you really exist I don’t know if I am Jewish, Christian, Muslim or infidel! My God… if you are here, and the fact that you are really here in this slum; Show me something I never knew. Because I feel that you have taught me things that I don’t know what they are!” As I was looking at the sunlight shining on the golden dome on top of the rock….ah…oh God!

… As I was crying, I went to my house.

Despite this, I felt like I was psychologically suicidal. Just as if I fell from the top of a black cliff into a black chasm. I could feel myself “falling” and I knew that God could protect me in any of the pits of hell or…or… All my thoughts were this; God is one…I had heard that He would be more than anything anyone said.” God, my God, please accept me!” And that was all I could think of.

After I got sick. Syrian Catholics were “not good”.

One day they told me; Afternoon there  Leave…no more.

When I returned at night, most of my belongings were thrown on the street and some were stored in a small warehouse in the yard, and I had no place to sleep.

Finally, I found a room in a guest house in East Jerusalem.

After a few weeks, my body stopped moving due to Lupus. The US embassy made a plan for me to fly back to the US to find more doctors.

This was probably the saddest thing that could have happened to me.

Just before returning, I went to Notredame and ordered my usual cappuccino on the terrace with a beautiful view of the city. I sat there, in a place I knew; I remembered a short period of the rest of my life. From the top of the city, I was looking at the stone rock that rose from the back of Deir Elias. And I asked God”; Oh my god… please don’t let me die! To see Quds one more time. My God, let Jerusalem live forever in my heart. I have never taken a picture of Quds, yet I can never see it.

After the onset of my illness and inability to move, when I returned to the United States, my condition improved. I got busy. Unconsciously, my mind went to Jerusalem again. God was in my life… and God was one, guardian and supreme. I lost my hearing. With the loss of my hearing, I could hear the echoes of the streets of Jerusalem… “Allah Akbar… Allah Akbar…” I lost my hearing.

Little children ran to me and said: Sabriya… Sabriya!”

I lost my Muslim friends and I asked myself: “Then where is God?”

One morning, just before I went to work, I had to stay in the kitchen, and God was my witness, as I said: “I bear witness that there is no God but God, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Prophet and the Messenger of God.” Surah Hamad and Surah Falaq I read and left the house while crying. I was happy and intoxicated thinking about this; i am Muslim! Allahu Akbar! I changed my name from Sabina to Sabria and then to Sabirah…a patient person. thanks God.