Held by the One who Heals

Today I took the first step into yet another round of treatment and surgery.

This time, I carried something I didn’t quite have before: Tawakkul — trust in Allah, trust in His plan. Not the kind of trust that waits for understanding, but the kind that surrenders without needing to know why.

This came at a time I didn’t want it to. Life had just begun to feel steady again — something I could finally build from. Maybe this too is something I can build from. But it’s teaching me something else. Before, I would try to read into it, to decode the lesson, to search for meaning in the pain. But now, I realise — you can’t always do that. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is trust. Not in the outcome. Just in Allah. As a whole in good and bad times in complete healing and not quite there healing. Today I trust that whatever this is, wherever it leads, it is already the best.

This morning I was anxious — truly anxious — before leaving, and even more so during the procedure. I found myself silently calling out: Ya Allah, Ya Allah… A call for ease. For it to pass. For the pain to be bearable.

And now I’m home. I changed, got into bed, and slept deeply for four hours. I tried to eat, just a few spoonfuls of soup, then took my medication again — antibiotics, painkillers — because I’m at high risk of sepsis. Higher than before. The fatality rate is 50/50. That’s not a figure that sits lightly. But even so — this pain too has a purpose, even if I don’t yet know what it is.

So tonight, as the children settle and I retreat from the noise of the world, I’ve chosen to sit in silence. No scrolling. No conversations. Just me and the Qur’an — the company of Allah’s words. What better comfort is there when you’re alone in pain, than the voice of the One who never leaves you?