I apologize beforehand for the longer entry today. But no matter how much I write and how long this entry is, it will never be enough to speak about our beloved Prophet (S).

This past weekend, I took my first AlMaghrib class [http://www.almaghrib.org] on the life of the Prophet Muhammad (S), a class titled, "The Shepherd's Path." I still have another weekend to go in order to complete the class, but I can honestly say that this class has been one of the most inspirational and interesting Islamic classes that I've ever taken. I thought I'd share a bit of reflections on what we talked about, as well as share a poem that I wrote [it was also inspired by the class].

The instructor of the course, Sheikh Abdul Bary Yahya, began the class in a very original and interesting way. He drew comparisons between the Prophet's (S) time and our time today. He discussed the isolation, rejection, difficulties, and discrimination that the early Muslims faced and drew analogies to our times as Western Muslims. How the early Muslims felt like strangers in their own homes; just as we do today. Many of us were born and raised in the U.S., but our decisions to actively practice Islam, may make us feel like strangers. How true the Prophet's (S) statement, "Islam began as something strange and will revert to being strange as it began, so give glad tidings to the strangers."

The numerous analogies that the instructor discussed, were a true inspiration and encouragement for all of us. His remarks seriously encourage people to look back at the time of the Prophet (S), read the Sunnah, and learn from the situations and incidents which truly mirror our own.

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Whether we're looking for techniques in order to answer those who challenge our religion or whether we're searching for affirmations in our times of difficulty, the life of the Prophet (S) gives us this and so much more.

I think about the isolation of the Muslims from their homes, the torture and discrimination against the early believers, the hijrah to Abyssinia and Madinah, and I no longer feel isolated and alone. I remember the taunts and slander directed at our beloved Messenger, the camel guts that were spilled onto his back, and the trash thrown in his way. I think of Ta'if and the stones thrown by children, forcing the Prophet (S) to leave the city with shoes filled with blood. And I remember the Prophet's (S) mercy on those same people, when he urged Jibreel (AS) not to destroy the town, saying:" Maybe Allah will produce from their offspring ones who worship Him alone." How generous, how patient, how truly inspirational.

I remember how the Prophet (S) had to bury his sons, when it's usually the case that children bury their parents. And despite all of this, he was still able to lead his Ummah with strength and steadfastness. I remember how after the sanctions where many starved, came the Year of Grief; bringing the deaths of the Prophet's (S) protectors, supports, and comforts, Abu Talib and Khadijah (R). And through all this loss, he maintained his iman and depended on Allah (swt).

As I said before, I could go on forever and it wouldn't be enough, so I'll stop here and share the poem that I recently wrote:

Ya Rasulullah

When I read the books, listen to the CD's, and hear the narrations, I am in a continuous daze,
Hearing of your patience, tranquility, and endless faith, I am truly amazed,
Though words can never be enough to describe your character, personality, and life,
I strive to learn and reflect upon your unshakeable iman through every difficulty and strife.

Ya Rasulullah, when I begin to recall your youth as an orphaned child,
All problems and difficulties of mine seem vaguely mild,
When I reflect upon your isolation, being turned away from your hometown,
Your thankfulness and content, never publicly displaying a frown,
When I remember how the Muslims were tortured, and you were amongst them,
How every patient response of yours, was such a valuable lesson and gem,
I imagine them spilling camel guts onto your back as you prayed,
But the more they tortured and taunted, the stronger your resolute, never to fade,
I see the trash spilled in front of your home and the thorns that surround,
But, in your heart, you knew, that for victory you were bound,
I read about the incident in Ta'if and I cry,
For every stone that was thrown, for every injury, for the blood that would dry,
I recall the slanderous words thrown around, "sorcerer" and "madman",
And I remember the starvation and the loneliness through the sanctions and ban,
Ya Rasulullah, when I begin to complain about rejection and isolation,
I remember all that you faced, oh what an inspiration.

Ya Rasulullah, when I remember the losses you continuously faced,
My meager losses are quickly forgotten in haste,
Losing Abu Talib, your protection while amongst your enemies,
The man who tried to convert the taunts and the discrimination into ease,
The passing of Khadijah (R), your beloved wife,
The inspirational woman, who led you through each low point, every strife,
I imagine you tearing as you bury your children, such a difficult sight,
In the midst of your difficulties, your responsibility to lead the Ummah with strength and might,
As I sit and think about my material losses, I begin to realize,
That your faith took you through each and every difficulty, no matter effect or size.

As I read, listen, and hear of your inspirational Sunnah, every incident and situation,
I forget and shoo away all problems, difficulties, and frustration,
And after all this reflection and inspiration, I decide that if I could have only one more wish, it would be,
To see your smiling face in the Hereafter and be among those for whom you call, "Ummati, Ummati."