Ikhlas dan sabar

Ikhlas & Sabar...

These two words—ikhlas (sincerity) and sabar (patience)—are the most important foundations I need to hold onto right now in dealing with Abang’s condition. 

They are not just words, but deep spiritual commitments that require strength, faith, and trust in Allah SWT.

After hearing and reflecting on advice from many people—family, friends, and even strangers who care—I’ve come to realize that not all advice should be taken to heart. 

From now on, I choose to only absorb the positive advice. 

The kind that reminds me to be strong, to hold on to hope, and to lean closer to Allah. 

The rest, I’ll leave behind.

Ikhlas means accepting everything with an open heart. 

It means embracing each moment in this journey, no matter how small or slow the progress may be. 

Whether Abang shows tiny signs of improvement or none at all, I must still continue to walk this path sincerely and wholeheartedly. 

Ikhlas also means trusting the outcome—whatever it may be. 

Whether Abang recovers fully or only partially, whether he returns to being the man I knew or someone slightly different, I must learn to accept it as part of Allah’s divine plan.

Sabar, on the other hand, means I must stay grounded. 

It means believing that Allah has a purpose behind every trial. 

That every tear, every frustration, every sleepless night is not in vain.

Something beautiful is waiting at the end of this struggle. 

Maybe it’s healing, maybe it’s strength, or maybe it’s a version of myself I’ve never known before—more resilient, more faithful, more loving.

Sabar also reminds me that change is never instant. 

Just like Rome wasn’t built in a day, healing, growth, and transformation all require time. 

There will be good days and bad ones. 

There will be moments when I feel like giving up. 

But that’s when I need to remind myself: patience is not just about waiting—it’s about how I act while I’m waiting. 

It’s about the mindset, the prayers, the gratitude even in hardship.

These two—ikhlas and sabar—are the keys. 

The keys to helping me cope with Abang’s condition. 

The keys to keeping my sanity and peace of heart in check. 

The keys to holding this marriage together with dignity and grace.

And when the time comes—when Abang is back to his old self again—I must also remember this: I will not bring up this painful chapter again. 

It won’t be used against him. 

It won’t be a scar I keep pointing at. 

It will be a test that we survived. 

A season that passed. 

A wound that healed. 

And for that, I will be forever grateful to Allah.