Spring: The Slow, Steady Beauty of Growth

This spring, remember:

“You’re planting seeds, not picking flowers. Be patient. Growth takes time.”

Reflecting that it’s spring tomorrow as I Look back on my path, I can see how deeply connected it has always been to the rhythms of nature. Before I even understood it in an Islamic sense, I felt the pull of the land, the changing of the seasons, the rise and fall of the tides. There was always something grounding in the way the earth moved, how it seemed to whisper lessons about patience, renewal, and unseen growth.

Now, as a Muslim, I still rejoice in these things—the shifting colors of the sky at sunrise and sunset, the quiet hum of the earth waking in spring, the steady pulse of the ocean beneath my board. But now, I see not just beauty in creation, but the Creator through creation. What once felt like mere wonder now feels like remembrance—like dhikr written into the waves, the wind, the soil.

Allah tells us:

“And on the earth are signs for the certain [in faith], and in yourselves. Then will you not see?”

(Quran 51:20-21)

Everything around us is a sign, if we are willing to pay attention. The ocean does not fight against its tides; it moves with them. The trees do not resist the seasons; they surrender to them. The land trusts in the rain to come, in the sun to return, in the cycle set by its Creator. And so should we.

Growth—whether in faith, in healing, or in understanding—is not immediate. It is slow, quiet, often unseen. But just as the seed beneath the soil is not forgotten, neither are we. Allah sees every effort, every moment of patience, every quiet surrender. And just as spring always follows winter, He will bring our growth in its due time.

So I remind myself to trust. To plant the seeds, even when I cannot yet see the flowers. To move with the tide, rather than against it. And to look for Him always—in the changing winds, in the rolling waves, in the stillness and the motion of everything He has created.