Patience is not passive. It is not merely enduring hardship with gritted teeth, waiting for the storm to pass. True patience—Sabr Jamil—is an active trust in Allah, a deeply rooted certainty that every test is woven into the fabric of Qadr, designed not to break us, but to shape us.
Life has felt like an unending series of trials, one after another, testing me beyond what seems humanly possible. Yet, in every moment of hardship, I have chosen patience—not because it was easy, but because hope in Allah has always been my foundation. Patience is not just a feeling; it is an action. It is the deliberate choice to restrain the ego, to quiet the whispers of frustration and despair, and to submit to the wisdom of Al-Alim, the All-Knowing.
Allah reminds us in the Qur’an that He is with the patient (Surah Al-Anfal 8:46). This is where patience begins—with the deep internalization that we are never alone in our struggles. It is from this understanding that we make the conscious choice to be patient, knowing that Allah loves the patient (Surah Aal-e-Imran 3:146). And when we commit to patience as a way of life, trusting in Allah’s timing and wisdom, we reach the realization that “if you remain patient, indeed, that is better for those who are patient” (Surah An-Nahl 16:126).
Patience is not about suppressing emotions or pretending that pain does not exist. It is about holding onto the rope of Allah while the storm rages, knowing that He is the one who will bring the dawn. And with every hardship, with every test, it is as if another knot is tied into that rope, giving me a firmer grip, a stronger hold, a way to climb higher and draw closer to Him. These trials are not roadblocks; they are steps, each one elevating my soul toward the One who is always near.
It is a journey of self-discipline—of resisting the ego’s demand for instant relief, of choosing faith over fear, of allowing hardship to refine the soul rather than harden the heart.
And in the moments where patience feels impossible, when the nafs screams for an end to the struggle, I remind myself that patience is a seed planted with trust. Allah will water it. He will let it grow. And soon, these difficulties will be nothing more than stories of how Allah carried me through.
This journey toward Taqwa, toward complete reliance on Allah, is intense. It demands everything from the soul. But it is also breathtakingly beautiful. Because in patience, we witness miracles—in ourselves, in our hearts, and in the way Allah unfolds our story in ways we never could have imagined.
And so, I choose patience. I choose Sabr Jamil. Again and again. Because I know that with every hardship, Allah is near.
Look at a tree, a flower, a plant. Let your awareness rest upon it. See how still it is, how deeply rooted in being. It does not rush, nor does it question its existence. It simply is, fulfilling its purpose as Allah has ordained. Allow nature to teach you stillness.
In a world that constantly pulls us in different directions, where our minds race with worries of the past and anxieties of the future, we often forget the power of simply being—of grounding ourselves in the present, in the remembrance of Allah. Yet, when we turn to nature, we see a reflection of what it means to trust in His divine wisdom. The trees do not fret over their sustenance, nor do the flowers anxiously wait for the rain. They remain firm, deeply rooted, surrendering to the will of their Creator.
“And the good word is like a good tree, whose root is firmly fixed, and its branches reach to the sky.” (Qur’an 14:24)
Our faith, too, must be like this—deeply rooted, unwavering, constantly reaching towards the heavens. Just as a tree finds nourishment in the earth, we must find our sustenance in our connection with Allah. Salah, dhikr, patience, and gratitude—these are the roots that keep us firm amidst the storms of life. Without them, we are like scattered leaves, easily carried away by the winds of hardship and uncertainty.
Stillness is not just about quieting the noise around us—it is about quieting the noise within. It is about trusting that no matter what life brings, we are held by the One who created us, just as He holds the trees, the flowers, and the plants in perfect balance.
So, let nature be your teacher. Let it remind you that just as every tree stands firm in the earth, you too must stand firm in your faith. Just as every flower blooms at its appointed time, your journey is unfolding exactly as Allah wills. And just as every leaf eventually falls, returning to the earth in peace, we too must learn to surrender—to trust, to let go, and to find stillness in the presence of our Creator.
Ya Allah, in the stillness of this night, I come to You—tired, restless, yearning for peace. The world is quiet, but my mind is loud. My thoughts circle endlessly, carrying worries I cannot control, fears I cannot silence, and regrets I cannot change. Ya Rabb, I lay them before You now.
I am weary of overthinking, of holding onto burdens that only You can carry. I do not want to live imprisoned by my own mind, restless even in moments of stillness. Ya Allah, soothe the storm within me. Quiet the chaos in my heart. Replace my anxiety with trust, my fear with faith, my uncertainty with the peace of knowing that You are in control.
Ya Rahman, You see what weighs on me, even when I do not speak it aloud. You know the pain I hide, the battles I fight, the silent prayers I whisper when no one else is listening. Tonight, I leave it all with You. I surrender, not in defeat, but in trust. I do not need all the answers—I only need to know that You are near.
Ya Rabb, as I bow before You in this sacred hour, I ask You to calm my restless heart. Grant me the kind of peace that only comes from You. When my mind is unsettled, remind me to turn to You. When my heart aches, remind me that You are the Healer. When I feel lost, guide me back to You.
Ya Allah, let me wake with a heart unburdened, with a soul at ease, with a mind that trusts in Your divine plan. And if peace is written for me, let it be a peace that draws me closer to You.
If you’re unable to fast due to whatever reason, as that’s between you and Allah don’t feel discouraged. You are still earning rewards by obeying Allah’s command and quite often your medical team.
Here are some beneficial ways to stay spiritually connected during this time:
1. Say Alhamdulillah – Instead of feeling upset. Understand that everything is by the will of Allah and you are still being rewarded for following Allah’s guidance.
2. Start Everything with Bismillah – Begin all your actions in the name of Allah to bring blessings into your day.
3. Memorize the 99 Names of Allah – Reflect on their meanings to strengthen your connection with Him.
4. Recite Surah Ikhlas – Since it equals one-third of the Qur’an, reading it three times is like completing the entire Qur’an.
5. Engage in Dhikr – Keep your heart connected to Allah by frequently saying SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar, La ilaha illallah.
6. Seek Forgiveness – Say Astaghfirullah often to purify your heart and soul.
7. Learn and Memorize Short Duas – Focus on their meanings and incorporate them into your daily life.
8. Read Hadiths – Gain wisdom from the sayings of the Prophet (ﷺ) in a language you understand.
9. Listen to Qur’an Tafseer & Islamic Lectures – Deepen your understanding of Islam through beneficial talks.
10. Read the Qur’an’s Translation – Reflect on the words of Allah in your native language.
11. Study the Seerah – Learn about the life of Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) and draw inspiration from his character.
12. Read About the Women of Islam – Discover the lives of the Mothers of the Believers and female Companions for motivation and strength.
13. Share Islamic Knowledge – If you have online friends or sisters in faith, engage in discussions and share beneficial reminders.
14. Avoid Gossip & Negative Speech – Protect your heart by staying away from backbiting and idle talk.
15. Revive the Sunnah – Implement small Sunnah acts, like making du’a before sleeping and greeting others with Salam.
16. Improve Your Worship – Practice perfecting your wudu, salah, and supplications so you can return to/continue prayer with renewed sincerity.
17. Engage in Acts of Kindness – A kind word, a supportive message, or a sincere du’a for someone else is a form of charity.
18. Plan Your Ramadan Goals – Use this time to set spiritual goals for the remainder of Ramadan and beyond.
19. Make Niyyah (Intention) for Allah – Every good deed done sincerely for His sake will be rewarded.
20. Tag a Sister Who Can Benefit – The Prophet (ﷺ) said: “The one who guides to something good has a reward similar to the one doing it.” (Muslim)
Remember: In Ramadan, good deeds are multiplied 70 times! Even if you can’t fast, there are countless ways to earn immense rewards.
Ramadan is one of the most blessed months of the year—a time of deep reflection, worship, and renewal. As we fast, pray, and draw closer to Allah, we naturally find ourselves looking back, revisiting the past, and reflecting on the choices we’ve made.
At some point, we all wish we could turn back time, rewrite certain moments, and take different paths. Regret can settle deep within us, making us wonder, What if I had done things differently? But part of this reflection must also be a reminder: everything that has happened was always meant to be.
“No disaster strikes upon the earth or within yourselves except that it is inscribed in a register before We bring it into being—indeed that, for Allah, is easy.” (Quran 57:22)
Before we even came into existence, every joy, every hardship, and every lesson was written for us. The good and the bad, the moments of ease and the moments of struggle—all of it was decreed by Allah. And yet, when hardship touches us, we sometimes lose sight of this truth. We forget that everything—even our greatest tests—come from the One who possesses all that is good.
But when we remember this, when we take our belief in Qadr deep into our hearts, something shifts. There is a peace that comes with truly believing that Al-Wakīl (The Best Disposer of Affairs) is always in control. The knowledge of this strengthens our relationship with Allah, because we no longer carry the weight of the past with regret. Instead, we embrace it with understanding.
Laylatul Qadr, the Night of Decree, is the most blessed night of Ramadan. It is the night when destinies are written, and yet, its exact date remains hidden from us. Why? Because billions of Muslims around the world strive to witness it, pouring their hearts into worship, praying, and seeking Allah’s mercy. This night teaches us something profound: we don’t always need to know everything. We just need to trust.
And that brings us back to Al-Wakīl.
How often do we yearn for something, pray for it, only for Allah in His infinite wisdom to give us what we need instead? He knows what is best, even when we do not.
“… But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you, and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah knows, while you know not.” (Quran 2:216)
Our role is not to control everything. Our role is to strive, trust, and submit—to tie our camel and then leave the rest to Allah. This does not mean we sit back and do nothing. Islam teaches us to be proactive, responsible, and to take the means available to us. But it also teaches us to accept that our plan may not always be the best plan.
So as we reflect on our past this Ramadan, perhaps we can begin to see it differently. Maybe everything we’ve been through has been preparing us for where we stand today. Maybe the struggles that once broke us were actually shaping us into who we were always meant to be.
And maybe—just maybe—when we truly entrust our affairs to Al-Wakīl, we’ll finally find the peace we’ve been searching for all along.
In many Muslim communities, there is often an over-romanticized view of marriage. This can be largely due to the fact that many people, especially men, enter into marriage with little to no prior experience in relationships, as premarital relationships are not allowed in Islam. Consequently, they often step into marriage with unrealistic expectations, viewing it as a fairy tale rather than a partnership built on effort, responsibility, and mutual respect.
Marriage in Islam, while beautiful, is not without its challenges. It’s not enough to simply rely on romantic gestures or dua. In reality, marriage involves hard work—managing finances, handling responsibilities, supporting each other’s growth, and addressing the pressures of daily life. You cannot live solely on ideals; practical efforts like earning a living, maintaining respect, and nurturing dignity are what truly sustain a relationship.
Let’s face it, it’s beautiful to receive long romantic messages but in reality if you cannot walk your talk it’s just words you’ve cut copied and pasted to win someone’s heart with no ability to fulfill them.
When these idealized expectations collide with the realities of life—the need to work, provide, and manage household pressures—it can lead to disappointment and frustration. Many relationships struggle because partners fail to maintain a balanced understanding of what marriage truly requires. A successful marriage requires patience, mutual effort, and a clear understanding that love and commitment are built on more than just romantic notions—it’s about facing life together with resilience, respect, and shared responsibility.
In the end, true fulfillment in marriage comes when both partners acknowledge the realities of life and continue to work together, beyond the fleeting romantic moments, to build a stable and respectful relationship grounded in faith and responsibility.
May Allah bless us with balanced, compassionate, and understanding spouses, and grant us the strength to navigate the challenges of life with patience, love, and mutual respect.
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.
Seeking Sakina 