Hacker - Chapter 8: By Its Cover

I checked the phone after the shower to find an unread text.

'Apparently someone's craving for western food. Would you mind accompanying me to this one place?' Zack asked.

It's me. I was that someone.

'No' I replied shortly.

Hanging the towel, I was about to dry my hair when a text came in, 'I'm sorry that we haven't known each other long enough for you to understand that it's an order instead of a request,'

I groaned. My finger had started to type a reply, 'I only free tonight'

'Nice'

'Yeah and I hate last minute plan. You better make this good' I ended it with a gun emoji.

'Can't promise. See you at 9'

Not sure how many times I'd questioned this, but, did this guy only exist to annoy me?

**

Killing two birds with a stone. That's actually a very intelligent move; except that he forgot to tell me that we're going to have a dinner at a hella fancy restaurant which was, of course, in my goal list.

And I was wearing a freaking sweater.

He didn't miss my deadly glance as we entered the place. And I didn't even bring that much money - well, enough for a little bit of higher price menu but this place was too fancy man I'm telling you. I was welcomed by the one second does this lady never learn about dress code kind of look from the workers as well. Mental note to ask him what should I wear every time we go out together.

Done placing our order, he started to eye me.

"I hate you," I said.

He let out a chuckle at the sudden statement.

And now I hate you even more for being damn cute after embarrassing me. I rolled my eyes and looked out of the window. His eyes were still on me that it was getting awkward, so I finally looked him back, "Do you want a picture?" I asked with a fake sweet smile plastered on my lips.

He curved that signature half smile and shook his head, "I just thought about how this world care so much about look. If they knew who you really are, inside, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't dare to look at you that way,"

My fake smile faded as he uttered those thoughtful words, "And who am I inside, Mr.?" I raised a brow.

Instead of answering, he just shrugged and leaned on his seat.

I scoffed, "How can you talk about something you don't know?"

This time, it was his smile that disappeared. He leaned in again, putting his arms on the table, "I have questions," he said seriously.

I straighten my body at his tone, "Shoot,"

He was about to open his mouth when the waitress came with our drinks. We said "Thank you," and I started to sip mine as the waitress left.

"Why do you pray?"

I was quite taken aback with the question and accidentally coughed, "What?" I asked back.

Zack swallowed nothing - or probably his pride, "You heard me," he mumbled.

I wet my lips. There was a sudden change in our atmosphere and I was trying my best to cope with it, "To say thanks to Him," I answered.

His brows creased, "You're stuck with me and Edward and the cost is your future. Why do you say thanks?"

I looked down at the table and sipped my drink again, "For this," I showed the drink, "It's delicious, you know. Want to taste some?" I nonchalantly responded before drinking again.

It was just the fact that we're serious two seconds ago and suddenly he opened a life and death question. Give me some time to adjust, please.

His furrowed burrows stayed that way as if demanding a real answer from me. Realizing what he's actually inviting here for, I pushed my drink aside.

"What's on your mind, Zack?" I asked genuinely.

He moved his lips apart, probably deciding where to start, "He took everything away. He took her away..." his eyes were on me but I could almost see he's picturing his mother, "If God was fair, why do I have to live like this?" he asked.

Despite the comfortable, shiny, beautiful restaurant we're at, everything seemed to be gloomy.

"Live like what?" I purposely wanted him to make his view of himself clearer.

"Like this," he stated, "In grudge, doing illegal jobs, playing with someone's life,"

I took a few moments and leaned on my seat, "Then stop,"

He darted his eyes to me again, "What?"

"You hate this kind of life, then stop. Forget about the grudge, find legal jobs, stop playing with my life,"

He scoffed, "Are you insane?"

"Does somebody force you to do all this?"

"Yes,"

"Who?"

"Edward Kaine," his voice was full of hatred, "He sabotaged my father, he killed my mother. I have to seek revenge, Rae," he said, "He deserves to suffer,"

I shook my head slightly, "We're not talking about him, we're talking about you," I stated, "What would happen if you didn't do all this?"

Once again, his lips were apart but nothing came out.

The waitress came again with our food. Zack didn't even pay her a glance so it was only me who said "Thanks,". My eyes moved back to him after the waitress had walked away, only to find him stared into nothing, holding in the answer we both knew.

"You lived a peaceful life. That's what would happen," I said softly.

There was a very long silence and he wouldn't seem to be talking or touching the food anytime soon. I hadn't touch mine either.

"When prophet Muhammad SAW lost his uncle and wife in the same year, he was devastated. He could hold a grudge and stop preaching towards the people of Mecca, but he didn't," I storied, "He lived his life and did his responsibility just like before," Zack's eyes stayed on me, "Prophet Adam was thrown out of the heaven and was separated from his wife. He could rebel and do anything he wanted on earth as God seemed to not want him in paradise anymore. But he didn't. He repented and asked for Allah's guidance," he's still quiet as I continued, "Prophet Job was tested with years of illness and poverty and being left by his own family, but never had he ever once blame Him,"

They were the stories we've heard since we're children. Important events had been happening so much in every stage of our lives, we gradually forgot about them and the important lessons we should've taken from them.

"I'm not asking you to do the same. You're not a prophet. But, I hope you remember that they're humans too -- and just like us, they had choices," I reminded him.

It wasn't a direct advice but he's smart enough to get my point: God is fair. He gives us options on how we react to His tests. Our choices aren't the reflection of God's flaws -- it's ours. It'd be in vain if we tried to mold this world into our definition of justice, because life isn't always fair, and that's what He created hereafter for.

Now, the real question is whether we would let the tests of this world build us or ruin us.

After what felt like forever, he slightly nodded and started to touch his food. There's nothing much to say so I just ate as well. The vibe had changed and we devoured the food very much peacefully.

Done eating, Zack called for the bill. I'd already passed my money but he kept resisting to pay by saying that he was raised a gentleman and it'd hurt his pride. Like I care. The waitress giggled at our small argument about the payment and for some reason I felt like an idiot. Eventually I shut up and gave in. My attire had decreased my confidence, honestly.

Stepping out of the place, he said while walking, "If you're afraid that I paid with illegal money, just remember that I teach hacking classes as well and that thing is definitely legal," he smiled before getting into the car.

*******
Author's note: this is a fictional story I wrote on wattpad. Just sharing this one part here because of the Islamic message. You can find the full story on wattpad. Thanks for reading. ♡

Cukup

**

"اللهم أعني على ذكرك وشكرك وعلى حسن عبادتك"

**

Dulu, entah kenapa, aku rasa ragu-ragu untuk mengamalkan doa ini. Akal yang masih sempit membisikkan rasa takut andai doa tersebut menyebabkan rezeki aku semakin berkurangan (silly, i know). Walhal rasa syukur dan mengingati Tuhan itu boleh datang dalam bentuk yang pelbagai, termasuk nikmat dan kemewahan. Doa ini bukan perihal rezeki, tetapi reaksi terhadap rezeki.

Suatu hari, aku sedang sibuk menulis skrip untuk satu video yang bakal diterbitkan oleh salah seorang sahabat aku. Pintu bilik ditutup rapat dan dikunci dek kebisingan di ruang tamu yang agak menganggu fokus. Tema video tersebut ialah, happiness.

Kebahagiaan.

Aku meneliti isi yang disenaraikan lalu mengolah mesej tersebut dalam bentuk penceritaan. Sampai di bahagian hampir akhir, jari aku terhenti.

Apa sebenarnya kebahagiaan?
What is happiness?

Apa yang aku nak sampaikan melalui video ini? Jawapan yang mereka perlu cari sendiri, atau sepatutnya aku memberi jawapan?

Satu persatu tanda tanya muncul dalam kepala. Penceritaan yang tadi telah kemas ditaip, aku baca semula. Jika tadi aku hanya fokus untuk menterjemah dan bercerita, kali ini aku menganalisa setiap bait perkataan yang ingin disampaikan. Melihat gambaran yang lebih besar, satu perkataan muncul dalam minda aku.

Contentment.

Rasa cukup. Atau istilah islamiknya, qana'ah. Apa yang membuatkan kita tidak gembira, kebanyakannya adalah kerana kita berasa tidak cukup. I need more. I deserve better. Why does this happen to me? Bisikan-bisikan yang membuatkan hati kita resah. Jiwa kita kosong.

Menulis skrip itu, pintu hati aku terasa seperti diketuk lembut. Ya, bersyukur untuk bahagia itu adalah sesuatu yang cliche dan biasa disebarkan dalam status-status WhatsApp, Facebook, dan Instagram. Kata-kata tersebut sudah seperti mantra yang diterapkan dalam kumpulan-kumpulan "budak agama". Tetapi, menemui sesuatu atas tindakan orang lain berbanding dengan menyedari sesuatu atas usaha kerja minda sendiri, berbeza rasanya. Maka, pada solat seterusnya, aku menambah satu lagi doa dalam rutinku.

"Ya Allah, Kau bantulah aku untuk mengingati-Mu, bersyukur kepada-Mu, dan memperbaiki ibadahku kepada-Mu."

Aku tidak minta harta dan kemewahan. Aku tidak minta nama dan kecantikan. Aku hanya ingin cukup. Syukur.

Kerana aku hanya ingin bahagia.

Lemah

Pengilat kuku berwarna hitam menjadi pilihannya pada hari ini.

Jari jemari halus diletakkan di bawah cahaya lampu, sehelai nota mantiq terbuka di sebelahnya. Dia mengambil gambar hasil 'seni'nya sebelum dikongsikan secara peribadi di status WhatsApp. Kemas. Sudah menjadi hobi untuk dia mewarnakan kuku apabila datang tempoh stress semasa 'cuti' setiap bulan.

Tidak berapa lama kemudian, satu pemberitahuan muncul. Sebaris mesej terpapar di bahagian atas skrin telefon bimbit berserta nama seorang lelaki. Penghantar bukanlah orang yang istimewa dalam hidupnya, tetapi merupakan salah seorang daripada sebilangan kecil kawan lama yang nombor mereka masih dia simpan selain sering berhubung.

"Kuku tampal ke tu? Kenapa pakai?" respon lelaki itu terhadap perkongsian imej tadi.

"Bukan tampal la. Ini liquid," dia membalas.

"Boleh tanggal?"

"Peel off,"

"Okay," katanya, "Ada kebaikan ke pakai benda tu?"

Dia mula merenung pertanyaan tersebut. Motif respon sudah jelas, namun dia bersedia untuk menerima apa yang sahabatnya itu ingin sampaikan.

"Tiada," ringkas jawapannya.

"Bawa keluar?"

"Tak. I'm wearing it for myself. Status tu pun cuma family dengan kawan-kawan tertentu je boleh nampak so don't worry about it," dia memberikan penjelasan.

"Okay nice," balasan dihantar, "Kalau bawa keluar, boleh mengundang fitnah,"

Jarinya hendak menulis bagi bertanyakan satu soalan, tetapi entah kenapa dia ragu-ragu. Bersediakah dia untuk menerima realiti pahit yang bakal disajikan oleh sahabatnya? Atau bijakkah soalan itu?

Ah, biarlah. Sampai bila mahu hidup dalam kemanisan yang palsu, fikirnya, "Boleh kau explain macam mana benda ni boleh jadi fitnah pula?"

Beberapa minit berlalu sementara lelaki itu menaipkan balasan; mungkin berfikir dan menyusun ayat-ayat yang sesuai. Salah kata, makian yang bakal diterima. Perempuan itu bukan orang biasa-biasa, tetapi mempunyai reputasi yang tentunya datang bersama ego. Selesai mengarang, butang 'hantar' ditekan.

Dia membaca dengan teliti tiga sebab yang disenaraikan, "Pertama, kau sendiri tahu macam mana pemikiran masyarakat kita. Mudah menghukum sebelum bertanya. Bukan semua orang tahu yang benda ni peel off, so kalau yang ringan lidah, mereka akan cakap solat kau langsung tak sah. Kedua, orang akan kurang rasa hormat pada pelajar agama. Kita bukan macam orang lain. Masyarakat judge kita lebih teruk kalau ada sesuatu perbuatan kita yang tak kena," dia bersetuju dengan alasan yang dikemukakan setakat ini, "Dan ketiga, janganlah kita sesekali meniru atau menyerupai orang yahudi dan nasrani..."

Perkara terakhir itu memberi kesan yang mendalam terhadap dirinya. Mindanya lantas mengingat kembali pesanan Rasulullah SAW:

لَتَتَّبِعُنَّ سَنَنَ الَّذِينَ مِنْ قَبْلِكُمْ شِبْرًا بِشِبْرٍ وَذِرَاعًا بِذِرَاعٍ حَتَّى لَوْ دَخَلُوا فِي جُحْرِ ضَبٍّ لَاتَّبَعْتُمُوهُمْ قُلْنَا يَا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ آلْيَهُودَ وَالنَّصَارَى قَالَ فَمَنْ
.

“Sungguh, kalian benar-benar akan mengikuti kebiasaan orang-orang sebelum kalian sejengkal demi sejengkal dan sehasta demi sehasta, sehingga sekiranya mereka masuk ke dalam lubang biawak sekalipun kalian pasti akan mengikuti mereka.” Kami bertanya; “Wahai Rasulullah, adakah mereka itu kaum Yahudi dan Nasrani?” Baginda menjawab: “Siapa lagi kalau bukan mereka?”

(HR Muslim)

Matanya membaca kembali mesej yang diterima, "Ini adalah antara sebab yang aku boleh bagi. Bila aku tau ada jenis yang peel off, mungkin aku boleh longgarkan sikit. Lagi pun aku tau kau masih waras so it isn't that worrying to me. Tapi still, bagi aku tak manis lah perempuan solehah macam kau pakai benda ni," bibirnya mengukir satu senyuman kecil apabila digelar solehah. Begitu tinggi sekali kah dia di mata mereka?

"Thanks sebab tegur aku," ujarnya ikhlas.

"No problem. Jangan terasa pula tau,"

Dia menggeleng perlahan. Permintaan yang tidak logik. Mana ada orang yang ditegur tetapi tidak terasa. Hanya saja cara mereka mengawal dan memberi reaksi terhadap rasa sentap itu berbeza.

"Aku ni bukan apa. Kita kalau dah dapat Islam, kena jaga elok sebab ramai dekat luar sana yang dah tak pentingkan Islam," dia menyambung.

"Weh," dia menaip, "Pray for me ya. Aku ni kalau stress memang suka buat benda aneh sikit," kerisauan yang dipendam akhirnya terluah.

"It's okay," balasnya, "Kau nak cuba pakai benda tu, tiada masalah. Pakai la dekat dalam bilik tidur ke, tapi stay dalam rumah dan jangan bawa keluar. Honestly macam pelik perempuan pakai tudung guna pewarna kuku ni,"

Dia tersenyum kelat dengan ayat terakhir lelaki itu.

"Again, jangan terasa hati pula aku cakap. Kita semua sama je pernah try benda pelik-pelik, pernah buat dosa," dia mengakhiri mesejnya.

Jauh di sudut hati, dia mengucapkan kalimah syukur kepada Allah kerana masih memberikan peringatan lembut buat dirinya. Seringkali dia alpa, seolah-olah ilmu yang ditimba tidak begitu berguna. Namun Tuhan itu Maha Mengetahui. Setiap hari, dia takut. Risau dengan kekuatan yang dipunya tidak setanding ujian yang dia hadapi. Dan sungguh, dia tidak mampu untuk melawan jiwa sendiri. Maka, dia titipkan doa setiap hari. Boleh jadi itulah asbab untuk Tuhan masih menarik dia kembali.

Akhirat >>>

"Tak susah pun sebenarnya," dia bercerita, "Kiraan dia memang banyak, tapi semuanya mudah," tangannya yang tadi membuat pelbagai gaya, kembali memegang telefon bimbit.

Sudah tiga tahun lamanya kami tidak berjumpa. Kini berada dalam tahun kedua ijazah, dia menceritakan kepadaku subjek-subjek yang sedang dipelajarinya dalam jurusan electrical engineering. Sudah tentu, ia banyak berkisar sekitar nombor. Berbeza dengan aku yang mengambil jurusan pengajian Islam, gaya pembelajaranku lebih kepada penghafalan daripada pengiraan.

"Oh... Nice la kalau macam tu," Aku menghirup sedikit air milo di hadapanku.

Dia merenung aku beberapa saat sebelum bertanya, "Sebenarnya, kenapa kau ambil course ni weh?". Dahinya berkerut dek minda yang cuba memproses maklumat kontra yang telah kami maklum sejak sekolah rendah lagi.

Pertama, kami berdua suka matematik.
Kedua, kami tidak suka menghafal.

Bibirku mengukir satu senyuman yang tidak sampai ke mata, pandangan aku halakan ke tempat lain. Aku cuba mengambil nafas. Tenang. Memori berasak masuk tetapi satu persatu aku tepis bagi memberi ruang untuk berfikir.

فَمِنَ ٱلنَّاسِ مَن يَقُولُ رَبَّنَآ ءَاتِنَا فِي ٱلدُّنۡيَا وَمَا لَهُۥ فِي ٱلۡأٓخِرَةِ مِنۡ خَلَٰقٖ
.
Lancar lidahku membaca separuh akhir ayat ke-200 surah al-Baqarah itu.

Perlahan. Senada. Tiada lenggok atau lagu.

"Ada antara manusia yang berkata: 'Wahai Tuhan kami! Berikanlah kami kebaikan di dunia'. Mereka diberikan kebaikan di dunia dan tidak ada bagi mereka sedikitpun daripada kebaikan di akhirat," Aku membacakan maksudnya.

Matanya memandang tepat ke arahku. Seribu satu cerita yang terselindung disebalik wahyu suci Tuhan tersebut, aku pendam dalam memilih kata. Dia tidak perlu tahu, kecuali satu.

Aku meneruskan bicara, "Dalam kata lain, kalau kita kejar dunia, kita takkan dapat akhirat. Tapi kalau kita kejar akhirat, inshaallah kita dapat dua-dua. Aku bukan nak cakap yang course bukan agama ni duniawi, tidak. Kalau nak kejar akhirat, ambil jurusan apa pun boleh kejar akhirat. As long as kita niatkan pekerjaan itu sebagai sumbangan untuk agama dan umat, kira kejar akhirat la tu," Aku terangkan, "Tapi personally, aku belum ada long-term plan yang aku nak capai dalam hidup ini. Cuma impian kecil..." Penjelasanku terhenti.

Peristiwa pahit mengintai dari tabir fikiran. Dia tahu. Dan aku tidak mahu saat ini menjadi sayu jika aku meluah apa yang terbuku.

"So, aku cuma follow the flow; which base is ayat yang aku baca tadi," Aku habiskan penerangan.

Dia mengangguk tanda faham.

Sejujurnya, ayat al-Quran itu hanya untuk penenang hati selepas berbagai-bagai faktor lain yang menyebabkan aku membuat keputusan itu. Namun, cukuplah masa yang diluangkan bersama ini aku ceritakan tentang kita. Bukan aku, atau dia sahaja.

فَإِذَا عَزَمۡتَ فَتَوَكَّلۡ عَلَى ٱللَّهِۚ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ يُحِبُّ ٱلۡمُتَوَكِّلِينَ
.
Kemudian apabila engkau telah berazam maka bertawakalah kepada Allah, sesungguhnya Allah Mengasihi orang-orang yang bertawakal kepadaNya.
(3:159)

Kelabu

Ada orang sangat organize dan siapkan kerja awal, supaya masa untuk memperbaiki kerja itu lebih banyak.
Ada orang buat kerja last minute, tapi masih menyiapkan amanah dengan baik.

Dua-dua pun tak salah.

Yang salah adalah orang yang tak reti nak faham orang lain dan push orang untuk ikut cara dia sahaja.

**

Ada orang yang termotivasi apabila di 'psycho'.
Ada orang yang semakin berundur. Untuk apa hidup atas aras orang yang tidak mampu untuk berhikmah, fikirnya.

Dua-dua pun tak salah.

Yang salah adalah orang yang mudah mengatakan orang lain lemah kerana tidak dapat menerima cara dia memberi "motivasi" dengan balaghah.

**

Ada yang menyampaikan dakwah sambil meluangkan masa tertentu untuk memantapkan tarbiah.
Ada yang hanya ingin fokus mentarbiah diri. Berdakwah sekadar akhlak, dek risau andai kata-kata yang diberi belum mampu dia hadapi jika diuji.

Dua-dua pun tak salah.

Yang salah adalah orang yang memperlekehkan usaha dan cara orang lain memperbaiki diri.

**

Ada orang sambung belajar, kerana kunci perubahan kehidupan pada dia adalah ilmu.
Ada orang terus bekerja, kerana percaya bahawa ilmu itu bukanlah sekadar sekolah dan buku.

Dua-dua pun tak salah.

Yang salah adalah orang yang membanding-bandingkan kehidupan manusia sedangkan tiada satu pun antara kita yang betul-betul sama.

**

Dunia ini bukan semata-mata hitam dan putih.
Tetapi, kelabu.

Lost

I’m starting this writing with zero things in mind. I only have these feelings, though it’s faded as I put the music away from my ears. Coming back to reality, it doesn’t seem to matter. But it’s not something that I can escape. Because it is, too, a part of my reality.

Is it my insecurity, or my guts? Which of those two that told me?

I’m struggling to be comfortable saying ‘no’ and doing something that, in my judgement, is better for myself. The feeling of being judged is driving me insane. But it’s something that we can’t escape, can we?

The feeling is overwhelmed that often, it’s my tears that do the talking instead of my mouth or hands. I want writing to be my therapy, but at times I couldn’t get it translated by any word or letter. It just, is.

I keep asking myself, who am I doing this for? Because deep down, I know it’s not for me. It’s not because of myself, but others. It’s always been like that. The selfless nature that I thought is dead, is actually eternal and making me conflicted. I’m standing in the middle of trying to love myself and being a kind person for others. The latter seems to be my tendency but, sometimes it’s pointless. It’s making me view myself as this naïve, foolish little girl, who doesn’t know the dark side of the world.

“In the end, fools change the world,” – BTS

Their words made me rethink. Right now, every hint dropped is telling how my decision is wrong.

But my heart doesn’t want it. For some reasons I don’t understand, it refuses.

For somebody who likes math and rarely understands arts, it’s an odd decision to follow your heart. But somehow the feelings it produces, is making me go against my logic.

I said I needed a break, but honest to be said I just want to quit. Again, the only reason that’s preventing me from being honest is their judgement. I’m scared of their judgement.

Who am I doing this for? Them, or myself?

Talk To Me

Numb.

That’s the only word that could picture what I felt in that moment. My routine was done and it was time to call it a night. I should feel calm. But all I felt was empty. I sat there for a few more moments, my mind tracking back to the past remembering all of my mistakes, all of my sins. I felt guilty – or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me. I still felt mostly nothing.

‘O Allah, do I still have a heart?’ I asked quietly.

The room was dark. It was 3 am in the morning and I was still sitting on my prayer mat, wondering.

These last few weeks weren’t good. Over time, I felt myself less caring about things I should’ve cared about. My performance was terrible. Answers that I thought I’d found, were unnecessarily doubted again. And I wasn’t sure if it was because of me, or my enemy.

‘I’ve tried doing my duty as Your servant, after months of failing, I’ve successfully doing it tonight… But why can’t I cry?' my brows creased out of confusion with myself, 'I’m asking for Your forgiveness, o Allah. But why do my eyes refuse to shed even a single tear?’

I felt unease, yet it wasn’t enough to let me wept. Eventually, I gave up. I took my hijab off and started to lie on my bed.

‘Do You hate me?’ my little heart asked, ‘Are my sins too many, that I literally can’t feel anything while having a special moment with You?’ I closed my eyes, ‘Maybe I’m indeed nobody – whether it’s among humans, or with You,’

And with the questions still in mind, I fell asleep.

**

“And so today, I wanna share about surah ad-Dhuha,” she started, “Do you know when this surah was revealed?” she asked me. It was only two of us there.

I nodded, “During the year when Prophet Muhammad was the saddest. He lost his beloved ones – Siti Khadijah his wife, and his uncle, Abu Talib, in the same year,”

“Correct. It was recorded that the gap between this surah and the one before it was around 2 to 4 weeks,” she stated, “Imagine being told that you’re chosen as the leader, but instructions were lost for like a month, what would you feel?”

“Lost,” I answered the first thing in my mind.

She smiled as an agreement, “And miserable,” she added.

I guess just like how I felt to be chosen on this path of truth but one long gap and suddenly I didn’t know how to use my heart anymore. That is, if I still have one.

After a few more introduction, we finally went through each verses. She recited the Arabic till the end of the surah first and I would continue by reading the translations. Listening to her recitation, I tried to remember how long I’d left one of my routines, which included this surah. It used to be one of my favourites. Now I didn’t even remember when was the last time I recited it.

She’d done. It was my turn for the translation. I started with bismillah, then verse 1, verse 2… My voice was almost cut after I read verse 3.

“And Your God don’t hate you, nor He ever leave you,”

I stared at the verse for what seemed like forever. It took me a few minutes to compose myself and finally continue reading.

..

After the meet up, I thought about everything that happened in the last few hours. Maybe, just maybe, He wanted to see more effort from me. It wasn’t hate. It’s just a phase. The one where you should start to find that feeling while try to not being deceived by the enemy who told you to stop because apparently you’re not worth it.

He legit answered you that He don’t hate you. If that isn’t enough for a sign, I don’t know what is.

My heart was at peace again. I still needed to strive harder, though.