Happy Birthday Marc Manley

Baby Marc

February 28th the birthday of three people who have shaped my journey and taught me to love God in the realest way. My mother who has always taught me to have faith, my good friend who helped foster my courage to return back to my faith, and my husband who has deepened my faith and demonstrated the meaning of dedication. Today is his birthday, today.

As a graduate student, I first stumbled across his blog and got butterflies. I followed the writings of this dreamy unattainable guy across the country. A few years later, two fellow bloggers told me that he mentioned me. I saw him as all the best pieces of everyone I ever cared about put together in one big man package. Creative, musical, devout, earnest, honest, generous, warm, strong, intellectual, and emotional. Being in love with love, I fell hard. I met him for the first time as I returned from a year of self imposed exile abroad. I peaked through the peephole for the first time, and I knew that this was the man I was going to marry.

The year before we were engaged, I attended my family reunion. My cousin and I shared the challenges of finding a match, somebody who was ‘hood enough to understand our family while at the same time being able to mix in our professional circles. Like my husband, we learned to be social chameleons, sharing different parts of ourselves in different contexts. Born in the Rust Belt like myself, he still holds an attachment to Detroit. My crazy matches his crazy, and sometimes that is not in a good way. We’re two strong headed, trash talking, sensitive people. And we’re also smart, so when we argue it is like clash of the titans. But more often than not we end up being something fantastic. For example, we can have tag team, go Bonnie and Clyde, on debates.

Together, we have struggled through health crisis, work-life crisis, personal battles, and deaths of close friends and family. When we got married, he was working at the school of design, trying to complete his undergraduate degree. The strain wore down his health and there were probably close calls when I could have lost him. I can tell you stories about him defending the elderly on the bus, chasing down a man who abused a woman, trying to rescue someone from a collapsed building. But the most courageous thing he does is to feel. He cries when he says goodbye to his parents, he cried on our wedding, and he cries during prayer.

My husband is probably one of the most brilliant thinkers I know. For over five years, I dedicated much of my life to studying Arabic, from three intensive summer programs, commuting from San Jose to San Fransisco for private Arabic tutoring, battling through two years coursework in graduate, even a year in Kuwait and Egypt. I studied Arabic at University California Berkeley, at Pacifica Arabic resources, at Stanford, at Universite Moulay Ismail, at Middlebury, at Alif Fez, at at Markez Diwan, and at American University of Cairo to finally make it to upper advanced. But this man taught himself! His Arabic today is so much better than mine. He has an incredible talent for learning and especially languages. He’s fluent in Japanese, Spanish, and Arabic. In addition to studying independently with brilliant scholars and hidden gems in our community, he’s the only autodidactic I know.

Our house is filled with classical Islamic texts in Arabic, books I’m afraid to crack open lest I be reminded about my my neglect of my language study. I’ve seen him filling up a notebook with three books open while surfing the internet filling. His hours are filled up with study and deep thought, often interrupted by our four year old. She’s our greatest collaboration who has really changed our lives in the most positive ways. I see so much of him and I in her. Of course she is theatrical and has a huge vocabulary.

Nobody knows the sincerity of a leader better than their family. I know that he loves being Muslim, that he is satisfied with Muhammad as his prophet, and he is satisfied with his Lord. I know of his hopes and frustrations in building a thriving community. Despite those frustrations, nothing makes him happier than seeing people well fed and belonging. He has given talks that have made me cry, that remind me of the beauty of God’s creation and our place in it. There are times when I wish I could whisk the troubles of the world away and just enjoy us without interruption. At those times, my heart aches because life gets in the way of true expressions of love and appreciation. I could write much more about this unique guy whom I admire very much. Anyways, I hope you say a little prayer for the birthday boy and our little family.

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