Presence

Presence in the Test

This morning, I followed my Ramadan routine. I woke for Suhoor, prayed Fajr, and sat in my little Ramadan nook, journal in hand, ready to reflect. But to my right, the washing machine flashed its stubborn error signal, just as it had the night before. And in an instant, my peace was gone.

My mind spun away from Allah and into frustration—into logistics, expenses, time constraints. My heart, which had been resting in reflection, was now weighed down by worry.

I tried to return to my journaling, to my moment of presence, but the flashing light and my own rising frustration pulled me away. I snapped my book shut. The next half an hour was spent on my hands and knees, surrounded by tools, trying to fix the problem. And as the feelings of being overwhelmed built, I did what I should have done from the beginning—I turned to Allah.

I whispered my exhaustion, my limits, my inability to bear one more thing. I breathed in, deeply, and I let it go. Not expecting a miracle. Just surrendering. And in that moment, a thought settled in me: You can do this.

So I kept going. I turned the machine upside down onto its side,I found the pump unscrewed it, unplugged it, and found the blockage. And then I cried—Alhamdulillah. Not just for the fixed machine, but for the reminder that had settled in my heart.

It’s easy to feel connected to Allah when things are smooth. But in the small, grinding frustrations of daily life, in the ordinary tests, that’s where taqwa truly takes root. Worship isn’t just in prayer—it’s in patience, in presence, in the turning of our hearts back to Him, over and over again. Even when the washing machine is broken.