Ruaa Ibrahim

“I think when two people really love each other...way down deep...like where the souls sleep and dreams happen, where pain can't live 'cause there's nothing for it to feed on...then a wedding is a bleeding together of those two souls. Like two rivers running together. All that water becoming the same water. Mine did that.”
― Charles Martin, The Mountain Between Us

“وعندما تضطرب أحوالُ العَيش، وتبرز صعوبات مقلقة، يزداد تشبثه بربه، فعن ابن عمر، عن النبي صلى الله عليه وسلم : "ما يمنع أحدكم، إذا عَسُر عليه أمر معيشته، أن يقول إذا خرج من بيته : بسم الله على نفسي ومالي وديني، اللهم رضِّـني بقضاءك، وبارك لي فيما قُـدِّر لي، حتى لا أحب تعجيل ما أخَّرت، ولا تأخير ما عجَّـلت" .... سبحان الله! أي علم بالنفس البشرية ومتاعبها كان عند هذا الرسول؟! وأي خزائن ملأى باليقين كان يمنح منها هذا وذاك ليستبقي العلاقة بالله ثابتة هادئة؟!.”
― محمد الغزالي, فن الذكر والدعاء عند خاتم الأنبياء

“When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert

“... Broken people just need piecing back together.
For so long I'd carried the pieces of me. Every now and then I'd drop one like a breadcrumb. So I could find my way home. Then Ashley came along and gathered the pieces and somewhere between 11,000 fee and sea level, the picture began taking shape. Dim at first, then clearer. Not yet clear. But these things take time.
Maybe each of us was once a complete whole. A clear picture. A single piece. Then something happened to crack and shatter us. Leaving us disconnected, torn and splintered. Some of us lie in a hundred pieces. Some ten thousand. Some are edged with sharp contrast. Some dim shades of gray. Some find they are missing pieces. Some find they have too many. In any case, we are left shaking our heads. It can't be done.
Then someone comes along who mends a tattered edge, or returns a lost piece. The process is tedious, painful, and there are no shortcuts. Anything that promises to be one is not.
But somehow, as we walk from the crash site - away from he wreckage - whole sections start taking shape, something vague we see out of the corner of our eye. For a second, we stop shaking our heads. We wonder. Maybe...just maybe.
It's risky for both of us. You must hope in an image you can't see, and I must trust you with me.
That's the piecing.”
― Charles Martin, The Mountain Between Us