Monday, March 11: Zohreh Najmabadi

Psalm 89:19-52. Forever I will keep my steadfast love for him, and my covenant with him will stand firm.

During our lives we all face difficulties, losses, and the unfulfilled dreams that are a part of every life. For most of us the past injuries distract us from what we need to do now to be happy. Coming to terms with our past is inevitably a process of forgiveness, of letting go. It is an act of will and of surrender.

I had a happy childhood, we were five children well protected, loving parents who thought us to treat others as we want to be treated and love all. Their teachings were to be loving, fare and truthful. My parents had spirituality but did not encourage us to follow any religion.

My mother tells me the story that when I was 3 years old I nearly died, and how one hot summer night she stayed up all night just praying for my recovery and praying that it would rain so the weather would cool off, and to her amazement it did rain that night, in the morning when I woke up, I was smiling and she always tells me God gave you back to me that night.

My father traveled frequently and was very knowledgeable of different faiths and cultures. He had close friends from different faiths who came to our house and had deep spiritual and cultural discussions. I was content with the love I had from my family. My father was my Idol, his teachings and love gave me the strength to study abroad away from home. Later when I had my own family my father became my children’s Idol. My father’s love for all was visible. Much is made of the presumed difficulty in defining “love” my father gave this definition; We love someone when the importance of his or her needs and desires rises to the level of our own.

Later when my father became terminally ill and had few months to live I would travel every month to San Francisco to help and spend time with him. He was still the same caring and uplifting person. He would comment on the color of my dress, how it brightens my face and even asked me jokingly if I wanted him to cook for me. Tending to my ill father and later losing my Idol was a deeply spiritual experience and brought me closer to God, it increased my faith, hope and love. I realized I need to love myself and let go of fears, make changes, maybe happiness is the ultimate risk. We are not what we think, or what we say, or how we feel. We are what we do.   

   

—   Zohreh Najmabadi