Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaihi Rajioon. Today my beloved grandmother returned to our Lord during the last 10 nights of Ramadan and on an odd night. May Allah SWT grant her the highest ranks of Jannatul Ferdous and forgive her for any shortcomings. Ameen. Please make dua for her🤲🏽
When we were children, Ramadan felt like a beautiful countdown.
Every day that passed meant we were one step closer to Eid. We imagined the new clothes hanging in the wardrobe, the smell of delicious food in the house, the excitement of visiting relatives, the laughter, the sweets, the envelopes with small money inside. Our young hearts were fixed on the celebration waiting at the finish line.
To us, Ramadan was simply the road that led to Eid.
But something changes as we grow older.
Slowly, almost without noticing, our hearts begin to see Ramadan differently. The excitement for Eid is still there, but another feeling quietly takes its place. A deeper one. A calmer one.
We begin to realize that the real sweetness of Ramadan was never only the celebration at the end.
It was the peaceful nights when the world felt quieter than usual. The moments when the Qur’an was being recited and your heart suddenly felt soft. The long prayers where time seemed to slow down. The quiet sujood where you whispered things to Allah that no one else knew about. The calm that entered the heart after a long day of fasting, when the soul felt lighter than it had in months.
These are the moments that stay with you.
And suddenly, Ramadan is no longer just a month.
It becomes a guest.
A guest that enters your home and gently rearranges your heart. A guest that teaches patience, disciplines the soul, softens anger, strengthens faith, and reminds you of who you are when the noise of the world fades away.
Ramadan reminds you that your relationship with Allah is the most important thing you carry in this life.
That is why, when the last days begin to arrive, the heart feels something it never felt as a child.
A quiet sadness.
Because now you understand that a guest who brought light, peace, and mercy into your life is preparing to leave.
And you begin to wonder… did I do enough? Did I take advantage of its nights? Did my du’as reach the heavens? Did my heart truly change?
This is the beauty of Ramadan. It doesn't just pass through our calendar. It passes through our hearts.
So as this blessed month slowly says its goodbye, we ask Allah with sincere hearts:
May Allah accept every prayer we stood for.
May He accept every fast we kept.
May He forgive every sin we repented from.
May He write us among those who were freed from the Hellfire.
And may He allow us, by His mercy, to witness many more Ramadans in good health, strong faith, and hearts that are even closer to Him.
Ameen. 🤍
I pray I can raise enough funds to build water wells as Sadaqah Jariyah for my grandparents who have all passed away. Any donations would be greatly appreciated🤲🏽 Jazak’Allah
https://t.co/rKcJONGWB3
There is something we Muslims don’t really acknowledge or talk about enough, and that’s the effort reverts put into learning the Islam.
We celebrate their shahadah videos. We share “welcome to Islam” posts. But we rarely talk about what comes after.
This afternoon at work, I walked into the prayer room for Zuhr and saw a brother already praying. He had two rakahs left, so I quietly joined him.
While we were praying, I noticed a faint sound playing in the background. It sounded like it was coming from his phone or maybe a EarPods, but I wasn’t too certain.
After we finished, I completed the remaining two rakahs and I joined the next people that were about to pray Asr. He didn’t leave straight away and sat at the back of the room. He waited until I completed my prayer, then approached me.
He looked apologetic and said “This is the first time someone joined me in prayer and he wasn’t sure if I did it correctly.”
He mentioned he was following the recitation through his headset and seemed genuinely concerned that he might have made a mistake with how he led the prayer, being the first time. You could tell he had been thinking about it throughout.
I told him he did everything right. I told him I heard a faint sound playing in the background but couldn’t tell if it was him. I asked for his name and had a little chat about work. I could see the relief in his face.
What stood out to me wasn’t the technical correctness of his prayer but the sincerity and effort behind it.
He was so conscious about pleasing Allah, and not offending others in how he prayed, that he waited just to make sure he hadn’t done something wrong and to seek correction. He wasn’t casual about it. He wasn’t indifferent. He was intentional about it.
How many of us, born into Islam, carry that same conscious humility and intentionality?
We rarely speak about the weight reverts carry. The courage it takes to choose Islam.
The discipline it takes to learn from scratch, the pronunciation, movements, rulings. The quiet practice sessions. The YouTube video on repeat. The earphones or phone in prayer because they are still learning.
The quiet effort, the nervousness, the private struggle and striving to get it right. We don’t talk about that effort enough!
There is no time I listen to, read about, or meet a revert that I don’t learn from them.
Today encounter reminded me that guidance isn’t just about accepting Islam, it’s about striving every single day to grow in it to please Allah, and not wrong others.
May Allah make reverts and all striving Muslims steadfast upon this religion. May He reward our hidden effort, anxious questions out of sincerity, and grant us the understanding of it.
Parents are among our greatest blessings. Only Allah knows how long this blessing will last. Show them all the love and respect they deserve. They won’t be around forever.
The day of Arafah this year hit different Subhan’Allah. May Allah SWT accept all our efforts and may we witness living in answered duas. Allahumma Ameen🤲🏽
World leaders can make as many statements as they like opposing Israel's actions in Gaza.
Until they end the sale of weapons to Israel, they remain complicit in the mass murder of Palestinians.
Stop arming genocide, now.
How can a loving and merciful God allow so much pain and hardship in the world?
Today at Jummah prayer, the imam said something that deeply resonated with me:
Imagine a shepherd guiding his flock home.
One sheep strays off the path.
So the shepherd gently throws a stone
Not to harm it…
But to bring it back before it gets lost or devoured by wolves.
Yes, the stone may sting.
But it saves the sheep.
In the same way…
our trials are not punishments.
They’re wake up calls.
Signs of God’s love.
Sometimes, the pain is the very thing that saves us.
There’s love behind every test.
There’s mercy in the struggle.
There’s purpose in the pain.
So instead of seeing hardships as negative..
We should see them as signs of Gods mercy and love for us 🩷
In the Qur'an, the word "darkness" is used in a plural form, while the word "light" is singular
Ibn al-Qayyim said:
"This is from the miracles of the Qur'an because there are many paths that lead to darkness, but only one leads to light"
[بداية الفوائد ١/١٢٧]
Why do Muslims pray 5 times a day?
I used to think it’s excessive…
Until someone said this to me… and it changed everything.
Imagine this:
You wake up, and someone drops $24,000 into your account.
You can spend it however you like.
Travel. Food. Shopping. Anything.
But…there’s one rule:
You have to invest $1,000 into a high-interest trust fund.
Would you take that deal?
Of course you would.
Now…
24,000 = 24 hours a day
1,000 = 1 hour spent in prayer
That 1 hour?
It’s not lost. It’s saved.
And it multiplies for eternity.
PLUS…
You didn’t even earn the 24 hours.
They were a gift.
So tell me…
Giving 1 hour back to the One who gave you everything…
Is that really too much?
Or is it the best deal of your life?