Although a question that emerges with utmost frequency, I have yet to formulate the answer to ‘What draws you to Islam?’.

I may pride myself as the queen of one-liners and a holder in a parallel doctorate in sarcasm, with a Masters in cynicism, yet my response invariably consists of sighing, umming then trotting out a reply that offers scant justice to my true sentiments.

As opposed to an academically balanced raison d’être, it resembles more the response of a Midwestern cheerleader on why being Prom Queen is awesome: “Well, um, it’s like… so good and, um, I can’t explain… [sigh]‘.

My lack of erudition on this of all points is cringeworthy in the extreme, which is why, when I stumbled across Abdur Rahman’s explanation, I was immediately wrought with awe and a smidgen of envy at his fabulous articulation:

Although I took my time to investigate the teachings of Islam, I don’t think there was really any competition. [...] As I learned more, I was always struck by the ennobling qualities of Islam: wherever Islam has put down roots, it has produced generous, warm, just and committed individuals.

Theologically, Islam also seemed to be streets ahead of other faiths. It is simple to understand in its essentials, but not simplistic. It has a straightfoward and clear understanding of God and although some have commented that the God of the Quran is so high as to be distant, this is definitely not how I have experienced it.

Islam, by contrast, always struck me as radically life-affirming: there is no compulsion in faith; mankind has been born free under God; the middle path of tolerance, compassion and understanding is the only sane way to navigate the paths of this world.  I try to embody the teachings of Islam in my life, though I am a faulty human being (a work in progress you might say) and I often make mistakes. [Continues]

Beautiful.

Now, if I could only memorise this by tomorrow afternoon…