Tag: healing

In the lead-up to Ramadan, I was filled with so much anticipation. This year, I was finally going to fast. I couldn’t wait to experience the long, quiet hours of devotion, the stillness before dawn, and the sweet relief of Iftar at sunset. I stood outside my back door, searching the night sky, waiting for the crescent moon. And when I saw it, a soft silver arc against the darkness, tears welled in my eyes. It was a moment of relief, of hope—Ramadan had arrived.

The first few days were beautiful. I set up a small space in my kitchen, just for Suhoor and Iftar. I woke early, journaled in the morning, reflected, and immersed myself in the peace of it all. There was ease, joy, and an overwhelming sense of closeness to Allah.

And then, in the middle of it, Allah sent me a test.

A hospital visit. My consultants telling me I couldn’t fast. That it was harming my body. And just like that, the thing I had been longing for was taken away. It felt like such a loss, like something had been stolen from me.

At first, I struggled to make sense of it. Was I failing my Ramadan? Was I missing out on its blessings? Did Allah really want me to pass this test?

For many, fasting is difficult. The long hours, the hunger, the fatigue—it pushes you, but it also pulls you closer to Allah. But for those of us who cannot fast, for whatever reason—illness, pregnancy, breastfeeding, mental health—this is the real test. Not fasting can feel like you’re standing outside the gates of Ramadan, looking in, watching everyone else experience it while you’re left behind.

But this test, like all tests, is not a punishment—it’s an opportunity. When you can’t fast, you have to search harder for ways to draw close to Allah. You have to be intentional in your worship, in your dhikr, in your charity, in your prayer. You have to deepen your relationship with Him in other ways.

Not fasting isn’t a relief—it’s not an easier Ramadan. It’s a test that requires patience, faith, and trust. It’s easy to struggle through fasting, but it’s even easier to feel overwhelmed when you cannot. To feel weak. To question whether you’re doing enough. To wonder if you are still making the most of Ramadan.

And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, to feel physically and mentally weaker than usual, to have moments of doubt. It’s okay to sit with those emotions and be human with them. Because that’s exactly what Allah wants from us—to be human with Him.

He is Al-Qarīb, The One Who Is Near. He is with us through every trial, every frustration, every tear. He does not test us to break us, but to bring us closer.

“And when My servants ask you concerning Me, indeed I am near. I respond to the call of the supplicant when he calls upon Me…” (Quran 2:186)

Allah wants us to pass this test. He does not leave us alone with it. And when we begin to accept that—not just with our minds, but with our hearts—that’s when the peace comes.

It comes from knowing that Allah is with us, not just in our worship, but in our weakness. It comes from knowing that this, too, is part of our journey, part of our Qadr, part of the path He has chosen for us.

Maybe this test was never about fasting. Maybe it was about surrender. About trusting that Al-Wakīl, The Best Disposer of Affairs, sees what I cannot, knows what I do not, and that His plan is always greater than mine. Maybe it was about teaching me that Ramadan is not just about fasting—it’s about coming closer to Him, however that may look.

So if you are someone who cannot fast this Ramadan, know that you are not alone. Your test is real, and your struggle is seen. But also know this: you are still in Ramadan, and Allah is still near.