My love Is not an Ordinary Love

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My love Is not an Ordinary Love

This is a story from my wife, tell about how she met me and married me. Please read it.
The first time I met him when I graduated from college. There was no feeling at that time, just feeling nervous. The man I knew from two sheets of paper containing his personal data through a child guardian who I taught at the time. a week after getting his data, we finally met. Don’t imagine we met sitting together, face to face and chatting casually … we sat in a different room, bounded by walls. only the door with curtains as our connection. We were accompanied by our friends. question by question said to each other. to got to know each other and eliminate doubts between us. until the time came we had to meet face to face, yes we met face to face for about 5 minutes. Don’t imagine we are eye contact … we are given time to take turns to see each other.

After that meeting, I didn’t know what would happen. I surrender everything to God. Hopefully, if he was the best mate for me, then given the ease until the marriage later. I thought nothing at that time because I was desperate. The despair of getting a godly husband. I had done this process several times, the ta’aruf process (the process of getting to know one another to continue to marriage in Islam). All of them failed because my parents didn’t want to accept the prospective husband I introduced. Some had come home to get to know my family, but my parents did not agree. therefore, for this ta’aruf process, I have been pessimistic. Never mind if indeed I was not permitted to marry. Despair continued to haunt me …even though the hope continued in my heart. Hoping to God that I would be given the best husband. I was afraid of not be approved by parents, hoped to get the best mate, feeling pessimistic about my condition at that time. I’m not a beautiful, rich, or smart girl. I’m just an ordinary girl, from a poor family. Who wanted to make me his wife ?? Yeah, there’s nothing I could count on.

I returned to where I was teaching, I lived there because I could not afford to rent a house. Went home with mixed feelings. I didn’t know, what would happen to my life. I surrender to Allah. I didn’t want to bother with the meeting, I gave up. Whatever happened, it must be the best for me. Day after day … I continued to pray and pray istiharoh … after returned from the meeting, I felt sick, vomited, dizzy, could not eat at all. Every time there was food or drink that entered, immediately vomited. Just standing up for prayer I was unable. until exactly one week after the meeting, I was curious about what the man would do. Because I was desperate, if I had died then at least I knew what the man would do.

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