We are so lucky,
that in His unrelenting Mercy, even when the world feels so far apart, the distance somehow makes our hearts grow closer.
Close as your forehead when it hits the floor in prayer, and you make dua for someone else’s suffering first. Those prayers are the only weapons I’ve ever known.
Close enough that your body aches when theirs is attacked, because He created us as one.
And you’re not a doctor, so you can’t heal all the pain but you can be a band-aid when they need you to be, and a crutch when they don’t want you to be, because sometimes limping forward is the only way to learn to run again.
Their stories bring you to tears, even if you’ve never met, because they say some souls have already been introduced, we’re just bumping into each other again here.
Maybe that’s why the strangers have always felt so familiar.
My dad tells me that if I looked in his heart, I would find a place just for me right at the bottom. I always used to joke and ask why I wasn’t higher up, but now I think I get it.
It must be for times like these.
When all they want is for us to close up, I’m content knowing there’s always more room in my heart for the people I’ve never met, the strangers, the ones too far to hug tonight maybe, but always close enough to love.