Islam is remarkable among monotheistic faiths. It teaches that Allah created us, gave us intelligence, placed within us a natural inclination toward truth, gave us free will, and then did something more: He sent people to show us how to live.

They were not angels, but humans who walked the earth. They ate food and experienced loss. They were mocked and rejected, yet they carried a message from their Creator to humanity: “Worship Allah, obey Him, and live according to His guidance.”

There is a difference between knowing someone existed and allowing that person’s life to influence yours. You may know the history of these great personalities and admire their achievements. But if none of those things influence how you think, behave, or make decisions, how much of that knowledge has truly changed you?

This is an important question for every Muslim to consider when reflecting on the fourth article of faith: Belief in the Messengers of Allah. Ask a Muslim whether they believe in Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, and the answer will most likely be an emphatic yes. And if you ask further whether they believe in Musa, Isa, Ibrahim, and the other Prophets, the answer will also be yes.

But here is an uncomfortable question: Does our belief in these Messengers influence our lifestyle? We’ve reduced our relationship with the Messengers to stories we hear, names we memorise, and events that occurred during their lifetime. Perhaps it is time to revisit what believing in the Messengers really means.

Why Did Allah Send Messengers?

Imagine being given a complicated machine without an instruction manual. You might admire its design, explore its features, and attempt to operate it. But without understanding how it is meant to function, you could easily misuse it or damage it.

Human life is far more complicated than any machine. We have desires to manage, relationships to maintain, decisions to make, responsibilities to fulfil, and questions about life and death that no amount of worldly knowledge can adequately answer.

Allah, in His infinite mercy, did not leave humanity without guidance; He sent Messengers. Although the Messengers came at different times, spoke different languages, and addressed different communities, their fundamental message was the same: worship Allah alone and live in submission to Him.

From Nuh to Ibrahim, from Musa to Isa, and finally to Muhammad ﷺ, the call to Tauhīd remained at the heart of their mission. Their stories remind us that Islam is not a collection of disconnected religious instructions. It is a divine message delivered through chosen human beings who demonstrated how to live in obedience to Allah.

The Messengers were not sent merely to tell humanity what was right. They were sent to show humanity what righteousness looks like. They were human beings like you and me. One of the most beautiful lessons we learn from the lives of the Messengers is that being close to Allah does not mean being exempt from life’s difficulties. Let me share with you a few stories from the lives of the Prophets…

Consider Nuh عليه السلام: For approximately 950 years, he called his people towards Allah. Imagine dedicating centuries to a mission and watching people repeatedly reject your message. Imagine the emotional exhaustion of continuing to call people who refuse to listen; yet he persevered.

What about Ibrahim عليه السلام? His commitment to Tauhīd brought him into conflict with his own people and even his father. He was thrown into a blazing fire because he refused to abandon his belief in Allah; yet he remained steadfast.

And Musa عليه السلام? He was commanded to confront Pharaoh, a ruler who possessed enormous power, and claimed authority that belonged only to Allah. Despite his fear and the enormity of the responsibility, Musa stood before him and delivered the message.

And then our beloved messenger Muhammad ﷺ. He was mocked, persecuted, rejected, and driven from his beloved hometown. He experienced the pain of losing loved ones, including his wife Khadijah and his uncle Abu Talib during a particularly difficult period. Yet he never abandoned his mission.

What do these stories really teach us? They teach us that righteousness does not guarantee a life without difficulties. Sometimes, the people most beloved to Allah experience the greatest trials. The lives of the messengers serve as a blueprint for us to follow in leading righteous lives.

Human beings can discover some answers through reason and experience, but there are questions we cannot answer with certainty. So Allah did not leave us to guess; He sent guidance through His books and Messengers to embody that guidance.

Allah says:

We sent messengers as bringers of good tidings and warners so that mankind will have no argument against Allāh after the messengers. And ever is Allāh Exalted in Might and Wise. — Qur’an 4[An-Nisa’]:165

The Difference Between Admiring the Prophet ﷺ and Following Him

Allah gives us a remarkable instruction in the Qur’an, presenting the Prophet ﷺ not merely as a historical figure to admire, but endorsing him as an example to follow. This is where our belief must become practical. Allah says:

“There has certainly been for you in the Messenger of Allah an excellent example.” — Qur’an 33[Al-Ahzab]:21

The Prophet ﷺ was known as Al-Amin — the trustworthy one even before receiving revelation. His honesty was not restricted to religious gatherings; it showed in his everyday dealings. Is it possible to be regular in the mosque and still be dishonest in business? Yes! But such behaviour contradicts the character of the Messenger we claim to follow.

Consider another example: his relationship with his family. The Prophet ﷺ said: “The best of you are those who are best to their families, and I am the best of you to my family.” — Tirmidhi

This statement should make every Muslim reflect. A man may be respected in the community, admired at the mosque, and celebrated for his religious knowledge. But what happens when he returns home? Is he patient with his wife? Does he treat his children with kindness? Does he help create an atmosphere of mercy and tranquillity? Is he respectful to his parents? The Sunnah is not something we practise only in public. It must influence the way we treat the people who know us best.

During the conquest of Makkah, the Prophet ﷺ encountered people who had persecuted him and his companions, opposed his message, killed some of the early muslims, and forced him out of his hometown. At this time, he had the power to retaliate. Yet he chose mercy and forgiveness.

Now, let’s think about our own relationships. How many years have some of us spent refusing to speak to our siblings? How many family relationships have collapsed because neither party is willing to forgive? How many marriages are struggling because old mistakes are repeatedly brought back into every disagreement?

We celebrate the mercy of the Prophet ﷺ, but are we willing to practise mercy ourselves? Following the Messenger is not simply about recognising his greatness. It is about allowing his greatness to influence our character.

There is another important dimension of belief in the Messengers: love. It may surprise you to know that some people hate the Messengers. I have heard someone who once told me that these prophets are nothing but philosophers. That tells you where their love lies.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“None of you truly believes until I am more beloved to him than his father, his child, and all of mankind.” — Sahih al-Bukhari and Muslim

This is not an ordinary expression of affection. It establishes the position of the Messenger ﷺ in the heart of a believer. But how do we demonstrate this love? Is it enough to frequently mention his name, send blessings upon him, and celebrate occasions associated with his life?

Sending blessings upon the Prophet ﷺ is a beautiful act of worship, and remembering his life is valuable. However, these must be followed by a genuine commitment to accepting him as a role model worthy of emulation.

Allah says:

Say (O Muhammad صلى الله عليه وسلم to mankind): “If you (really) love Allâh, then follow me (i.e. accept Islâmic Monotheism, follow the Qur’ân and the Sunnah), Allâh will love you and forgive you your sins. And Allâh is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful.” — Qur’an 3[Al-Imran]:31

This verse establishes a profound relationship between love and obedience. If we love the Messenger, we should want to know how he lived. We should want to understand his character, his worship, his patience, his leadership, and his relationship with Allah and the people.

How can we sincerely claim to follow someone whose life we have made little effort to understand? Perhaps one of the greatest things we can do for our faith is to rediscover the Seerah of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Not simply as a collection of historical events, but as a practical guide for navigating our own lives. His life offers guidance for almost every dimension of human experience.

Here is a simple challenge: Do not allow the Sunnah to remain something you hear about in lectures. Allow it to become something people experience through your character. After all, the purpose of learning about the Messengers is not simply to become more knowledgeable about their history; it is to become better servants of Allah through the guidance they brought.

Conclusion

When people lose their connection with the Prophets, they start looking elsewhere for models. Social media influencers, celebrities, political figures, and so on. While there is nothing inherently wrong with admiring someone’s talent or achievement, the big question is: Who is teaching me how to live?

Who is shaping my definition of success? Who is teaching me what masculinity and femininity look like? Who is teaching me what marriage should look like? Because whether we realize it or not, someone is teaching us. And the best teacher we can learn from is the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.

Hence, believing in the Messengers means accepting that Allah did not leave humanity to navigate life without divine guidance. It means believing in all the Messengers without rejecting any of them, honouring their missions, and recognising Muhammad ﷺ as the final Messenger.

May Allah make us among those who believe in His Messengers sincerely, love Prophet Muhammad ﷺ genuinely, follow his Sunnah faithfully, and reflect his beautiful character in our daily lives. May Allah’s peace and blessings be upon all the prophets and messengers. Āmīn.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 26th Jumadal Awwal, 1448AH // Friday 6th November, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

What Does Believing in the Messengers Require of Me? was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Imagine driving from Dallas to Washington without knowing the way. Someone hands you a reliable map. It shows you the right roads, warns you about dangerous turns, and points you toward your destination. You thank them, you keep the map safely in your car, but when you begin driving, you ignore it. You take random turns, drive in the wrong direction, and disregard every warning.

Hours later, you find yourself lost. Would you blame the map? Of course not; you had the guidance, but you simply refused to follow it. Sometimes, I wonder whether this is what our relationship with the Qur’an has become. We honor it, recite it, and teach our children to memorize it. We listen to it in our homes during Ramadan. Yet, in the ordinary moments of our lives, we sometimes behave as though its guidance has nothing to do with us.

We recite verses about honesty but deceive our customers. We read about patience but lose control of our anger. We memorize passages about forgiveness but hold grudges for years. We tell our children about the importance of prayer while they rarely see us prioritize it ourselves. The problem is not that we lack access to the Qur’an; it is that we have become comfortable with its presence without submitting to its guidance.

A Book That Was Meant to Guide Your Life

Belief in the revealed Books is the third of the six Articles of Faith in Islam. We believe that Allah revealed Scriptures to His messengers, including the Tawrah given to Musa, the Zabur given to Dawud, and the Injeel revealed to Isa, peace be upon them all. We believe in the scriptures Allah revealed to Ibrahim and Musa, and we believe that the Qur’an is His final revelation, sent to Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.

The Qur’an was not revealed merely to be recited beautifully, displayed prominently, or memorized for the admiration of others. It was revealed to guide us toward Allah and teach us how to live in ways that please Him. And that guidance extends far beyond the prayer mat.

It speaks to how we conduct business, treat our spouses, raise our children, handle disagreements, spend our money, and respond when life does not go our way.

Consider a moment when someone insults you. Your first instinct may be to retaliate. You want to send a harsh message and make them feel the pain they caused you. Then you remember Allah’s description of the people of taqwa:

“Those who restrain anger and pardon people; and Allah loves the doers of good.” — Qur’an 3[Al-Imran]:134

Imagine this scenario: you suddenly have a choice. You can allow your anger to dictate your behavior, or you can allow Allah’s guidance to govern your response. That moment is a time of practicality, where belief becomes action.

The real test of our relationship with the Qur’an is not only what happens when we sit in the masjid; it is what happens when life gives us a reason to disobey Allah.

There is a simple mistake many of us make when reading the Qur’an. We encounter a verse about arrogance and immediately think of someone we know. We are quick to recognize the sins of others. But what if we approached the Qur’an differently?

What if, before asking who else needs to hear a verse, we asked what Allah wants us to learn from it? When we read about justice, we examine how we treat people who disagree with us. When we read about kindness to parents, we reflect on whether we have been patient with them. Allah asks:

“Then do they not reflect upon the Qur’an, or are there locks upon their hearts?” — Qur’an 47[Muhammad]:24

Reflection is more than understanding what a verse means. It involves allowing its meaning to examine our hearts and influence our choices. The Qur’an is not ammunition for winning arguments. It is guidance for transforming hearts. And transformation begins when we stop using revelation primarily to correct everybody else and start allowing it to correct us.

The Gap Between What We Teach and How We Live

Perhaps the most important place to begin this transformation is at home. Our children are not only listening to what we teach them about Islam. They are watching what Islam does to us.

They hear us tell them to be honest. But do they see us telling the truth when dishonesty would be more profitable? We teach them to respect people. But do they hear us humiliating others when we are angry? We encourage them to pray. But do they see us making excuses whenever prayer interrupts our schedules?

Allah asks a question that should make every believer pause:

“O you who have believed, why do you say what you do not do? How despicable it is in the sight of Allah that you say what you do not do!”— Qur’an 61[As-Saf]:2–3

This is not a call to pretend that we are perfect; definitely we are not. Parents make mistakes, teachers struggle, leaders have weaknesses, and every believer is a work in progress. But there is a stark difference between struggling to practice what we believe and becoming comfortable with the contradiction we display.

Our children do not need parents who never make mistakes. They need parents who acknowledge their mistakes, seek forgiveness, make amends, and keep striving to live by the guidance they uphold.

Imagine raising a generation that does not merely know how to recite the Qur’an, but knows to turn to its guidance when making decisions about friendships, money, marriage, careers, and character. That is a legacy worth building.

Ways to Change Your Relationship With the Qur’an

The good news is that you do not need to become a scholar before you can begin applying the Qur’an to your life. You need sincerity, consistency, and a willingness to change. Here are four simple tips to start with:

1. Read a little every day: Do not wait until Ramadan to reconnect with the Qur’an. Begin with a page, a few verses, or whatever amount you can maintain consistently. The goal is not to finish quickly; it is to build a lasting relationship with Allah’s words.

2. Understand what you read: If you do not understand Arabic, study a reliable translation. Consult trustworthy tafsir when you need context. Do not allow a language barrier to become a permanent barrier to understanding the message.

3. Turn one lesson into one action: After reading, ask yourself three questions:

• What is Allah teaching me?
• What do I need to change?
• What step can I take to do something differently today?

If you read about generosity, help someone sincerely. If you read about patience, practice restraint during a difficult situation. Make it one verse, one lesson, and one sincere action.

4. Bring the Qur’an into your home: Spend a few minutes with your family discussing a verse that struck your heart. Talk about gratitude, honesty, kindness, patience, and other beautiful virtues you learn from the book. Make it a conversation, not a lecture. The objective is to make the Qur’an a living source of guidance in your home, not merely a book everyone is expected to read.

The Qur’an Is Also for the Person Who Has Strayed

And I write this with sorrow in my heart as I remember a friend who now claims to be an ex-Muslim. He learned the Qur’an and can read it fluently, but as Allah ordained today, he sees nothing in it but conjectures.

A point of reflection for me is how this magnificent book filled with wisdom and guidance can still be a source of doubt for some. My takeaway is to keep striving for excellence and steadfastness until death comes upon me. No one is above doubt, misunderstanding, and being led astray.

Perhaps you are reading this and realizing that your relationship with the Qur’an has weakened. You used to read regularly, but you stopped. You used to feel something during recitation, but now your heart feels distant. Don’t give up on yourself and never renounce your faith in the book of Allah.

Remember this: Allah said in the Qur’an…

“Say, ‘O My servants who have transgressed against themselves, do not despair of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins. He is indeed the All-Forgiving, Most Merciful.’” — Qur’an 39[Az-Zumar]:53

Allah’s invitation to return is not reserved for people who have never stumbled. It is an invitation to those who recognize their need for Him. You do not have to wait until you feel spiritually perfect before you open the Qur’an again. Open it while you are struggling, and read it while you are trying to change, even if you are still fighting your weaknesses.

Seek Allah’s forgiveness, take practical steps to leave your sins, and restore the rights of anyone you have wronged. The Qur’an does not invite us to become comfortable with our shortcomings. It reminds us that we can acknowledge them, repent, and begin again.

Sometimes the most important step in your spiritual journey is simply opening the Book you have neglected and allowing Allah’s words to reach your heart once more.

Do not wait for Ramadan, a more convenient season, or until you feel ready. Begin today, with the person you are and the circumstances you have. Remember the map illustration shared in the begining. Allah has guided us; the question is whether we will follow it.

You do not need another copy of the Qur’an sitting on your shelf. You need to give the Qur’an a greater place in your decisions, your character, your relationships, and your daily life. The goal is not simply to be a person who reads the Qur’an; it is to become a believer whose life reflects its guidance.

May Allah make us among the people of the Qur’an, who recite it, understand it, reflect upon it, act upon it, and embody its teachings with sincerity. Āmīn.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 19th Jumadal Awwal, 1448AH // Friday 30th October, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

This Is How Your Belief in the Qur’an Can Transform Your Life was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

We hear this sentence all the time: “Someone needs to do something.” Someone needs to do something about the state of the Ummah; someone needs to address the problems in the community. And sometimes, these statements are absolutely true; the problems are real. But here is another question we don’t ask often enough: Who is the “someone”? Perhaps it is you.

We live in the age of infinite complaining. And because we all carry a device in our pocket, we have a platform to broadcast every grievance the moment it occurs. The problem isn’t that these complaints are invalid; it is what we do after we complain: nothing.

This is the default setting of modern life. And it has infiltrated how we think as Muslims. But there’s an alternative that is not new, and it’s actually in our tradition. It’s simpler than you think, and it’s an Islamic paradigm shift. The Quran tells us:

“Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.” — Qur’an 13[Ar-Ra’d]:11

Notice what this verse doesn’t say; it doesn’t say Allah will change things for you. It doesn’t say Allah will fix your community while you sit back with hands akimbo. It says you have to change yourself first. This is the inversion that breaks the complaint cycle. It moves you from passively waiting to acting.

The Prophet ﷺ embodied this principle as depicted in the following hadith:

“The best of you are those who benefit people the most.” — Ahmad

Not those who complain about problems; not those who identify what’s wrong eloquently. It’s those who benefit people, which means those who solve problems.

When you read through the seerah — the life of the Prophet — you don’t see a man issuing complaints. You see a man with a systematic approach to problems. He listened deeply, consulted with people, and took decisive action. And when something didn’t work, he adapted. This wasn’t motivation; it was an effective methodology.

The Difference Between Seeing a Problem and Owning a Responsibility

Islam does not teach us to ignore problems. The Prophet ﷺ lived through persecution, poverty, betrayal, family difficulties, political opposition, community disagreements, and war. He did not pretend these things weren’t happening. His problems and challenges did not suddenly disappear because he was the messenger of Allah.

But there is an important difference between recognizing a problem and becoming consumed by the problem. A person can spend years talking about what is wrong without ever becoming part of what makes things right. The fundamental thing here is understanding that Change begins with responsibility.

Instead of asking only, “Who is responsible for fixing this? The believer learns to ask these questions:

• What is actually wrong?
• What part of this can I influence?
• What can I do?
• Who can I involve?
• What is the next step?

That is the beginning of solution-oriented thinking.

When the Prophet ﷺ Met Closed Doors

Here I’d like to share two beautiful stories from the seerah with enriched lessons. Let’s first consider what happened at Ta’if. The Prophet ﷺ went there hoping to find people who would listen to his message and support the call to Allah.

Instead, he got rejected and humiliated. He was mocked, chased, and physically harmed. Imagine returning from that experience. You could understand if someone said: “I’ve tried. It didn’t work.” But the Prophet ﷺ did not allow one failed attempt to become a permanent conclusion.

Ta’if was a closed door, but the mission continued. This is one of the most important lessons for anyone trying to solve problems: A failed strategy is not necessarily a failed mission. Sometimes the problem isn’t the goal; it is the method.

Sometimes you need a different person, a different time, a different approach, or simply more patience. Solution-oriented people understand this. They look for lessons by asking: “What did we learn?” That one question can change the way you respond to failure.

Another beautiful lesson in the Seerah comes from the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah. And this time, interestingly, the solution didn’t look like a solution. The Companions came intending to perform Umrah, but circumstances changed. The treaty that followed contained terms that were difficult for many of them to accept.

Yet the Prophet ﷺ saw beyond the immediate frustration. What appeared to some as a setback became, by Allah’s permission, a pathway to something greater. Allah called it out as a clear victory.

Verily, We have given you a manifest victory— Qur’an 48 [Al-Fath]:1

There is a lesson here for our lives: The best solution is not always the solution you originally wanted. Sometimes solving a problem requires patience and compromise on the method while remaining firm on the principle. And, at times, you have to accept an imperfect step because it creates the opportunity for a better one later. You don’t have to love the situation to make the best of it. All you need to do is take action and put your trust in Allah.

The Three-Step System

Here’s what I’ve noticed: most people know there’s a problem, but what they lack is a system for addressing it. So let me give you an efficacious methodology. It has three steps; it’s not complicated, and it works.

Step 1: Assess the problem

Not every complaint deserves your energy. The first step is to separate legitimate problems from venting. Ask yourself three questions:

• Is this actually my problem to solve?
• Do I have real information about this, or just emotion?
• What’s the root cause, not just the symptom?

Let’s say you’re frustrated: “Our mosque has no programming for the youth.” Before you go further, investigate. Have you actually checked what programming exists? Have you talked to the imam or youth coordinator? Or did you assume based on your own lack of awareness?

This matters because you’ll waste energy solving the wrong problem. Maybe the mosque does have programming; it’s just not well marketed. In that case, the problem isn’t lack of programs; it’s inadequate communication. See the difference? The assessment phase prevents you from running toward a mirage. Most people skip this step, and that’s why their solutions don’t work.

Step 2: Take drastic action

Once you’ve assessed, take a bold move, and don’t wait for permission. Don’t wait for perfect conditions. Don’t wait for explicit information. Take one concrete step that hinges you towards the ideal solution.

If the problem is communication, set up a 15-minute coffee time with the youth coordinator. Ask what they’re already doing. Ask how you can help amplify it. That’s it; one action.

If the problem is actually a lack of programs, propose one solution. Not ten ideas, but keep it simple and short. It could be a weekly study circle, a monthly sports night, or a mentorship match. Just pick one.

Here’s why this matters: most people never move from assessment to action. They get stuck in analysis paralysis. They say “I need more time to think about this” or “I need to talk to a few more people first.” Meanwhile, nothing changes.

The Prophet ﷺ didn’t operate this way. When he identified a problem, he acted. When Muslims were being persecuted in Mecca, he didn’t endlessly debate options. He approved the migration to Abyssinia. He didn’t wait for ideal conditions. He worked with what he had.

Step 3: Adjust your plan

Your first solution probably won’t be perfect. That’s not a failure; that’s data. So, listen to feedback and be willing to pivot. If your youth study circle gets three people and you expected thirty, that doesn’t mean the idea is bad. It means the execution needs adjustment. Maybe timing is wrong, or you might need a different location.

This is where humility comes in. The Islamic principle here is that Allah is the ultimate planner — we’re just doing our best with what we know. As we learn more, we adjust. And the beauty of this is that the end doesn’t justify the means. Most solutions improve in their second or third iteration. You’ll only get there if you’re willing to fail forward.

The Real-World Test

Now, let me show you how this works in practice. Remember the story of Hudaybiyyah when the Prophet ﷺ faced a deadlock with Quraysh on the way to Mecca. His companions wanted confrontation, but the logical path seemed obvious: to push through.

But the Prophet ﷺ assessed differently; he saw a longer game, so he decided to negotiate. He accepted terms that many of his followers thought were humiliating. The Treaty of Hudaybiyyah looked like a loss, but it wasn’t, because he adjusted his thinking about victory. He ﷺ knew that victory wasn’t always in winning.

Two years later, with the treaty in place, the Muslim community had grown stronger, more organized, educated, and more visible than ever. The “loss” became the platform for actual victory. This is what happens when you’re solution-oriented instead of complaint-oriented. You see possibilities instead of obstacles. This is what happens when you become a problem solver and not an excuse maker.

Let’s Move from Spectators to Builders

Whether we like it or not, there will always be problems. Some will be bigger than us, and some will be within our means to fix. We shouldn’t pretend otherwise because not every problem requires us to solve everything. It sometimes requires us to ask: What is mine to do?

Perhaps yours is to mentor one young person or volunteer to fill that role on the board of directors. Perhaps it is to start the program you’ve been talking about for three years. And it could be having the difficult conversation with your spouse, or becoming the father your children need. Maybe it is simply to stop complaining about something you have never attempted to change.

The Prophet ﷺ didn’t teach us to be spectators. He ﷺ built people within the community in Madinah. He consulted them, delegated, acted, adapted, persevered, and he trusted Allah. That is actually the balance we need. And when the framework doesn’t work: Learn, adjust, and try again.

Because perhaps the question Allah will ask us is not only: “Did you notice what was wrong?” Maybe the more important question is: “What did you do when you noticed?”

So the next time you hear yourself say, “Someone needs to do something,” pause and ask: “What if that someone is me?” Not because you can fix everything, but because you can do something. And sometimes, by Allah’s permission, something is where change begins. We ask Allah to grant us success in all ramifications. Amin!

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 20th Rabiul Akhir, 1448AH // Friday 2nd October, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

The 3 Simple Frameworks for Becoming a Solution-Oriented Muslim was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There is a world around us that we cannot see. Every day, we interact with things we can touch, hear, smell, and measure. We tend to trust what we can see. But Islam asks us to believe in something deeper: The world of the unseen. And one of the first things Allah asks us to believe in within that unseen world is the existence of His angels.

Belief in the angels is not an optional part of Islam; it is one of the six articles of faith. But here is the question I want us to wrestle with: If we truly believe in the angels, shouldn’t that belief change the way we live?

One of the earliest descriptions Allah gives of the believers is:

“Those who believe in the unseen…” — Qur’an 2[Al-Baqarah]:3

That is profound because the believer’s reality is bigger than what his eyes can see. You don’t see Allah, yet you believe in Him. You don’t see Jannah, yet you long for it. You don’t see Jahannam, yet you fear it. And the same way, you don’t see the angels, yet you believe they exist.

This is one of the fundamental differences between a believer and someone whose worldview is limited to what can be measured. The believer knows that what is unseen is not necessarily unreal. There are things you cannot see that you nevertheless believe exist.

You cannot see oxygen, but you breathe it. You cannot see radio waves, but your phone cannot function without them. You can’t see love, but you can feel it. The unseen is not necessarily irrational; it simply means that our senses are not capable of perceiving everything Allah has created.

So, Who Are These Angels We Believe In?

The angels are a creation of Allah. They are not gods, not divine, and not Allah’s partners. They are servants of Allah who completely submit to His commands. Allah describes them:

“They do not disobey Allah in what He commands them, but do what they are commanded.” — Qur’an 66[At-Tahrim]:6

Let this sink in for a moment. There’s no rebellion with the angels; no arrogance or negotiation with Allah. Unlike humans, they don’t have free will. They hear Allah's command and obey. The angels teach us something about submission: to hear and obey.

The angels aren’t simply a theological concept we discuss in an Islamic studies class. According to the Qur’an and Sunnah, angels are intimately connected to our lives. There are angels who record our deeds, angels who protect us from harm, angels in charge of the rain, and even an angel in charge of death.

Allah says:

“And indeed, there are appointed over you keepers, noble scribes, who know whatever you do.” — Qur’an 82[Al-Infitar]:10–12

Imagine if you genuinely remembered this throughout your day: that angels are watching you and keeping record of your deeds. You are sitting with friends, and someone begins gossiping. You remember: “My words are being recorded.” You are alone by yourself and tempted to look at something Allah has forbidden. Yet you remember: “This moment is not private from Allah.” Suddenly, belief in the angels becomes practical. It creates a state of muraqabah — a sense of being watched and accountable before Allah.

But there is another side to this that makes it more beautiful. The angels don’t only record our mistakes; they record our good deeds too. Every time you help someone, the charity you gave, that beautiful smile, when you say subḥānAllah, it’s not done in vain. Allah knows, and His angels record.

The Angels Teach Us About Our Purpose

Imagine a creation that never gets bored of worship. We —humans— however, sometimes struggle to pray five times a day. The angels are unlike us, created from light, and they are constantly engaged in the worship and glorification of Allah.

During the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ Miʿrāj — Ascension journey, he reached the seventh heaven and saw Abraham reclining against al-Bayt al-Maʿmūr. Then, the angel Jibrīl explained to him one of the significant events that occurs in the “Frequented House” in the heavens:

“This is al-Bayt al-Maʿmūr. Every day, seventy thousand angels enter it to worship, and when they leave, they never return to it.” — Bukhari and Muslim

The point is not merely that 70,000 angels worship Allah every day. It indicates the astonishing number of angels Allah has created. Every single day, 70,000 new angels enter al-Bayt al-Maʿmūr. They worship Allah there and leave, never returning until the Day of Resurrection. So the 70,000 mentioned in the ḥadīth are not a daily limit or total number; they are a new group every day.

Allah says:

“They glorify Him night and day, never tiring.” — Qur’an 21[Al-Anbiya]:20

The abstract reality is that we find five minutes of Qur’an difficult, and even chanting dhikr feels like a burden. We sometimes complain about not being spiritually charged, yet the angels remind us that worship is not a burden; it is part of our purpose. For sure, Allah knows that we will struggle, but perhaps the lesson is not that we must become like the angels. It is that we should become better servants of Allah.

Another unique lesson we can learn from awareness of angels is the fact that we’re never alone. One of the biggest misconceptions we have is: “Nobody is around.” But the believer knows that alone does not mean unobserved.

Allah is aware, and the angels are carrying out the tasks Allah has assigned to them. This is why genuine faith produces something inside a person that surveillance cameras cannot produce. A camera can make you behave because you are afraid of being caught, but Īmān makes you behave because you care about Allah. A person who fears Allah behaves well, even when the room is empty.

Remember, the goal of this series is to grow from Muslim to Mu’min, and strengthen the core of our belief. A Muslim believes in the angels because Islam teaches him to believe in them. But the mu’min allows that belief to influence his behavior.

The true believer remembers that his deeds matter. Hence, he becomes more conscious of his words. He becomes more careful with his private life. He becomes hopeful about his good deeds, and becomes even more aware that this world is not the end of his story. He begins to live with one foot in the visible world, and his heart connected to the unseen. That is īmān.

The Unseen Is More Real Than We Think

Perhaps the greatest lesson of believing in angels is this: Reality is bigger than what you can see. Your eyes can only see so far, and our ears can only hear so much. Also, there’s only a limit to what the mind can comprehend.

Allah has revealed enough of the unseen for us to know that this world is not all there is. There is a world beyond what our eyes can perceive. There are angels carrying out Allah’s commands.

There is revelation.

There is a preserved record.

There is resurrection.

There is Jannah.

There is Jahannam.

There is a Day when everything hidden will become visible. And one day, the veil between the seen and unseen will be removed. What we believe today without seeing, we will one day see. So let us live accordingly.

Believing in angels is not merely believing that invisible beings exist. It is learning to live with the awareness that the visible world is not the whole world. It is knowing that your private actions matter.

Your words matter.

Your intentions matter.

Your good deeds matter.

Your sins matter.

And your moments of sincere worship — especially those nobody sees — matter tremendously. So the next time you are alone and tempted to do something Allah dislikes, remember: You may be alone from people, but you are never alone from Allah. And the next time you do something good and nobody notices, don’t be discouraged. You don’t need the world to see it. Allah sees it, and perhaps that is enough.

May Allah make us people who believe in the unseen, live for the unseen, and ultimately enter the eternal home that we cannot yet see. Āmīn.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 29th Rabiul Awwal, 1448AH // Friday 11 September, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

Do You Really Believe in the Angels? was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There is a question we rarely ask ourselves because the answer seems too obvious: “Do you believe in Allah?” The default answer will be: Of course I do. I am Muslim. I pray. I fast. I attend Jumu‘ah. I say lā ilāha illā Allah. I believe Allah created the heavens and the earth. But perhaps there is a deeper question. What does believing in Allah actually mean?

Because there is a difference between believing that Allah exists and living as someone who knows Allah exists. There is a difference between saying Allah is my Lord and actually allowing Allah to be the Lord of my decisions. And also, there is a difference between knowing about Allah and knowing Allah through His Names, His revelation, His signs, and His commands.

And perhaps this is part of the journey from being a Muslim to becoming a Mu’min. Allah tells us about a group of Bedouins who came to the Prophet ﷺ and said:

The bedouins say, “We have believed.” Say, “You have not yet believed; but say instead, ‘We have submitted,’ for faith has not yet entered your hearts. And if you obey Allāh and His Messenger, He will not deprive you of anything for your deeds. Indeed, Allāh is Forgiving and Merciful.” — Qur’an 49[Al-Hujurat]:14

This verse is not saying that Islam and īmān are unrelated. Rather, it reveals that there is a difference between outward submission and inward conviction. This is a journey that we all need to actively embark upon. You can enter Islam outwardly, but īmān must eventually penetrate the heart inwardly.

And when īmān enters the heart, it does something uniquely different. It changes how you think, what you fear, how you treat people, what you love, and even what you do when nobody is watching. Real īmān leaves fingerprints. So the question is not merely: “Am I Muslim?” The more uncomfortable, and perhaps more beneficial, question is: “Is my belief in Allah changing me?”

Do You Know the Allah You Worship?

Perhaps this is where our relationship with Allah needs the most attention. Many of us know about Allah, but do we know Allah? There is a statement that is often circulated as a Hadith Qudsi:

“Know Me before you worship Me, for if you do not know Me, how can you worship Me?”

It is a beautiful statement, but it is not established as an authentic Hadith Qudsi, so we should not attribute it to Allah or the Prophet ﷺ as a hadith. Yet the underlying idea is worth reflecting upon, because how can you love someone you know nothing about? How can you trust someone you do not know? How can you worship Allah with deep consciousness if your knowledge of Him remains shallow?

Allah says:

“So know that there is no deity worthy of worship except Allah.” — Qur’an 47[Muhammad]:19

Notice the order: “So know…” Then what should you know? “…that there is no deity worthy of worship except Allah.” This verse establishes that knowledge matters when it comes to believing and worshipping Allah.

Allah introduces Himself to us in a profound way in one of the most beautiful passages at the end of Surah Al-Hashr.

Allah says:

“He is Allah — there is no deity worthy of worship except Him. He knows the unseen and the seen. He is the Most Compassionate, Most Merciful.” He is Allah — there is no deity worthy of worship except Him. He is the King, the Most Holy, the Source of Peace, the Giver of Security, the Overseer, the Almighty, the Compeller, the Supremely Great. He is Allah — the Creator, the Originator, the Shaper. To Him belong the Most Beautiful Names. All that is in the heavens and the earth glorify Him. And He is the All-Mighty, the All-Wise. — Qur’an 59[Al-Hashr]:22-24

Look at what Allah is doing here; He is introducing Himself to us. He wants us to know that He is the Most Merciful, the King, the Almighty, the All-Wise, the Forgiving, the Provider, the Creator, the Only One who deserves to be worshipped. These are not merely names and attributes to memorize; they are realities to live by.

When Knowing Allah Changes Your Life

Suppose you truly understand that Allah is Ar-Razzāq — the Provider. When your income becomes uncertain, you may still worry, make plans, and work hard, but you don’t cheat people to secure your provision. You don’t engage in haram because you think Allah’s provision has run out. You remind yourself: “My provision is with Allah.”

Or suppose you know Allah as Al-Ghafūr — the One who forgives abundantly. When you fall into sin, you don’t say: “I’m too far gone.” You return, repent, and ask forgiveness. You believe that the One who knows the worst of you is still willing to forgive you when you sincerely return.

And indeed, when you know Allah as As-Samī‘ — the All-Hearing. Would that not change the way you speak? Would you still gossip so casually? Would you still lie so easily? Would you still use your tongue to humiliate people?

And if you truly know Allah as Al-Baṣīr — the All-Seeing, would you behave the same way when you are alone? When you are alone with your phone, and nobody knows what you are looking at. When you could take money that isn’t yours, and nobody would discover it. This is when belief becomes alive.

The true believer remembers: Allah sees me, not in a paranoid way, but in a liberating form. Because when you know Allah sees you, you don’t need to live for an audience. You don’t need applause to do good. You are content knowing: Allah knows.

So ask yourself: What has my belief in Allah changed about me?

• Has it changed how I speak to my spouse?
• Has it changed how I treat my parents?
• Has it changed how I conduct business?
• Has it changed what I do when I’m alone?
• Has it changed how I respond when someone wrongs me?
• Has it changed how I respond to hardship?
• Has it changed how quickly I repent?

Because knowing Allah truly transforms your life positively.

The Prophet’s Advice to Ibn ‘Abbās

The Prophet ﷺ gave a remarkable piece of advice to the young companion Abdullah Ibn ‘Abbās رضي الله عنهما, may Allah be pleased with him and his father. He said:

“Be mindful of Allah, and He will protect you. Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him before you. If you ask, ask Allah; and if you seek help, seek help from Allah…” — Jāmi‘ al-Tirmidhī

Notice the first instruction: “Be mindful of Allah.” This is what knowledge is supposed to produce. Knowing Allah should lead to awareness of Allah. Awareness of Allah should lead to His obedience. And obedience should lead to a transformed life. The believer doesn’t simply know that Allah exists; He lives with Allah in his consciousness.

At the end of the day, believing in Allah is not simply a statement. It is a worldview that answers these seven pertinent questions:

1. Why am I here?
2. Who do I worship?
3. Who do I trust?
4. Who do I fear?
5. Where do I turn when life becomes difficult?
6. Whose approval ultimately matters?
7. My Success and failure come through whom?

And the answer to all of these questions should increasingly point us back to one reality: Allah!

In sum, we are Muslims, Alḥamdulillāh. But do we really thank Allah enough for this guidance to Him? Let us not be satisfied with the label. Let us ask Allah to take us deeper from Muslim to Mu’min. From knowing about Allah to knowing Allah. From worshipping Allah only when life is easy to worshipping Him even when life hurts.

The ultimate goal is not merely to say: “I believe in Allah.” It is to reach a point where the reality of that belief shapes everything about you. That is the journey from Muslim to Mu’min, and perhaps it begins with the simplest question of all: How well do I know the One I claim to worship?

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 7th Rabiul Awwal, 1448AH // Friday 21st August, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

What Does It Really Mean to Believe in Allah? was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Many of us spend our lives trying to accumulate more — more money, more achievements, more followers, more qualifications. Yet Allah directs our attention to something entirely different: quality over quantity, excellence over mere activity.

Did you notice something remarkable about the above verse? Allah does not say He created us to see who would do the most deeds. He says He created us to see who would do the best deeds. There is a world of difference between the two.

This single verse captures one of the greatest lessons of Islam: our faith is not meant to be static. It is a lifelong journey of growth, refinement, and drawing nearer to Allah. The tragedy is not that we begin as ordinary Muslims. The sad reality is when we choose to remain there.

One of the most beautiful moments in the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ life occurred when the Angel Jibrīl appeared before him in the company of his companions. He did not come to deliver new revelation. Instead, he came to ask questions: “What is Islam?” “What is Īmān?” “What is Iḥsān?”

After Jibrīl departed, the Prophet ﷺ turned to his companions and said:

“That was Jibrīl. He came to teach you your religion.”

Let’s imagine and allow this to sink in for a moment. The Angel did not ask about prayer, fasting, or charity alone. It’s as if He’s telling us that faith is not a destination we arrive at, but a mountain we spend our lives climbing. He taught the religion through three interconnected levels:

• Islam
• Īmān
• Iḥsān

The First Step: Islam

Islam is where every believer begins. It is the outward submission to Allah through the testimony of faith, prayer, fasting, zakāh, and pilgrimage. These pillars are essential because without them, there is no structure.

But imagine spending months building the foundation of a beautiful house, only to walk away. No walls, windows, roof, or doors. Would anyone call that a completed home? Yet many of us unknowingly treat our religion this way.

We pray, fast in Ramadan, attend Jumu’ah, strive to avoid major sins. Then we stop growing and feel cool with the status quo. Years pass, yet our relationship with Allah remains almost unchanged. We become comfortable with “doing enough of the basics.”

The same Qur’an remains unread since the last Ramadan. Our habits remain unchallenged, and we keep telling ourselves similar excuses of having no time, from time to time. We forget that faith was never meant to be maintained; it was meant to be cultivated and nurtured.

The Second Step: Īmān

When Jibrīl asked about Īmān, the Prophet ﷺ described belief in Allah, His angels, His books, His messengers, the Last Day, and divine decree. But Īmān is far more than memorizing six articles of faith.

The Qur’an paints a different picture:

The believers are only those whose hearts tremble at the remembrance of Allah, whose faith increases when His revelations are recited to them, and who put their trust in their Lord. — Qur’an 8[Al-Anfal]:2

Notice how Allah begins not with the body, but the heart. Īmān transforms acts of worship from routine into relationship. When you attain Īmān, the Qur’an will no longer be just recited; it begins to speak to you. Prayer is not just another task to complete; it becomes an audience with your Lord. Du’ā’ becomes a conversation rather than repetition. And you now see repentance as hope instead of guilt.

This is why the companions reached heights few could imagine. Let’s take a look at the likes of Abū Bakr; He was not always the wealthiest, strongest, or the greatest military commander. His greatness was genuine because it lived inside his heart. When others struggled to believe the Prophet’s miraculous Night Journey, Abū Bakr replied: “If Muhammad ﷺ said it, then it is true.” That unwavering certainty is what true Īmān looks like.

The Peak: Iḥsān

Then comes the summit, the peak of it all. Jibrīl asked: “What is Iḥsān?” The Prophet ﷺ replied:

“That you worship Allah as though you see Him. And if you cannot see Him, then know that He sees you.”

This is where faith becomes beautiful, not because someone is watching, but because you know Allah is. The scholars called this awareness murāqabah — which is a form of mindfulness. Murāqabah means living every moment with the consciousness that Allah sees you. It is asking yourself before every decision: “What choice would I make if I truly remembered that Allah is watching me?”

This changes everything for you because you’d remain in a consistent state of Allah’s consciousness. You lower your gaze when no one else is around. You speak honestly even when lying would benefit you. You refuse to cheat, not because you’re afraid of getting caught, but because you know you already are in the most profound and comforting sense.

One of the most moving stories from the early generations tells of a shepherd whom Caliph ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb tested. ʿUmar suggested he secretly sell one of his master’s sheep and claim that a wolf had taken it. The shepherd looked toward the heavens and replied: “Then where is Allah?”

Those four words made all the difference and changed everything. He understood that integrity begins where human observation ends. That is murāqabah, which is the highway leading to iḥsān.

We Chase Excellence Everywhere Except Where It Matters Most

Think about how we approach the rest of our lives. Athletes train relentlessly to improve their game. Professionals do their best to pursue promotions. Business owners seek growth and expansion for more profit. No one celebrates remaining exactly where they were twenty years ago. Yet spiritually, many of us quietly accept stagnation. We become satisfied with “good enough.”

Imagine telling your employer, “I’ve done the bare minimum for the last twenty years.” Do you think you’d ever get a promotion? Yet we sometimes expect closeness to Allah while investing only the bare minimum in our relationship with Him. Our Lord deserves more; and our souls long for more.

We make plans for retirement, vacation, and education. But how many of us have a written plan for becoming better servants of Allah? Ask yourself: Where do I want my heart to be one year from now?

Perhaps your plan is simple: To pray every ṣalāh with greater presence. To read one page of the Qur’an every day and reflect upon it. To repent every evening before sleeping, and replace one bad habit with one good habit to counteract it. Small acts, when repeated consistently, lead to transformation of lives.

The Prophet ﷺ reminded us that the most beloved deeds to Allah are those that are consistent, even if they are small. The destination is not reached through giant leaps; it is reached through faithful footsteps.

Never Stop Climbing Spiritual Heights

Perhaps the greatest lesson of Islam, Īmān, and Iḥsān is this: There is always another step toward Allah. No matter how much you know, no matter how long you’ve prayed.

Even the Prophet ﷺ, whose past and future shortcomings were forgiven, stood in prayer until his feet swelled. And when asked why? He replied:

“Should I not be a grateful servant?”

If the Messenger of Allah ﷺ never stopped growing, neither should we. The question is not whether you are a Muslim. The question is: What kind of Muslim are you becoming? Because one day, every journey will come to an end.

And when we finally stand before Allah, He will not ask whether we were content with the status quo. He will ask what we did with the faith He entrusted to us. So, my dear brother and sister, don’t settle, don’t drift.

Allah did not create you merely to carry the label “Muslim”; He created you to become the best version of a Muslim you can be. Every day that passes without drawing closer to Allah is a missed opportunity to elevate your rank with Him.

Don’t merely maintain your Islam. Nurture your Īmān, and pursue Iḥsān with murāqabah. And spend every day climbing toward the One who has always been waiting for you. And always remember the words of your Lord:

“And that to your Lord is the final destination.” — Qur’an 53[An-Najm]:42

Be The Difference Maker

The difference between an ordinary Muslim and an exceptional one is often not talent or intelligence; it is the commitment to intentional spiritual growth. One is content with doing the minimum required, while the other constantly asks: “How can I love Allah more? How can I worship Him better? How can I become more pleasing to Him?”

The beauty of Islam is that there is no ceiling to excellence. Every prayer can be more sincere than the last. Every recitation of the Qur’an can bring deeper reflection. Every act of charity can be more selfless. Every day offers another chance to refine your character, strengthen your faith, and increase your awareness of Allah.

This is why every believer should reject spiritual complacency. Life is too short, the Hereafter is too important, and Allah’s reward is too magnificent to settle for being average. The believer’s ambition is not to simply enter Jannah, but to strive for the highest ranks of Jannah by pursuing excellence in faith, worship, character, and service to humanity. That is the journey from Islam, to Īmān, to Iḥsān, and it is a journey worth dedicating your entire life to.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 9th Safar, 1448AH // Friday 24th July, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

As believers, it’s essential to live with the end in mind. This is why the akhirah — afterlife — is the lens that makes the dunya — worldly life — finally make sense. There is a companion of the Prophet ﷺ named Ali ibn Abi Talib RadiAllahu Anhu who used to say something that stops me every time I read it.

“The people are asleep. When they die, they wake up.”

Let’s sit with that for a moment, not because it is morbid, but because it is honest. Most of us spend our days moving through a world that quietly assumes we have unlimited time. Our schools plan for a lifetime of careers. Our phones feed us content designed to hold our attention for the next thirty seconds. We make plans for next weekend, next summer, and next year. But what plans are we making for the next world?

Islam asks a different question, and it is the one nobody actually asks you.

Who do you want to be standing in front of Allah as?

That is the real question. And here is what is strange about it, you already know the answer. You do not need to think about it very hard. If you sit still for thirty seconds and imagine yourself in front of your Lord on the day when it is finally quiet, you know the version of yourself you would want to be. The habits you would want to keep. The people you would want to have been kinder to. The prayers you would want to have prayed and never missed.

That version of you is not a fantasy; it is already inside you. The Qur’an calls it your fitrah — the original design Allah wrote into your soul. Every ayah about the akhirah is really just a reminder to stop being someone other than who you already are underneath. If you have ever felt overwhelmed by choices, the akhirah is the frame that cuts through it. Not because it makes life smaller, but because it makes it bigger and makes sense.

When you know you are going to stand in front of Allah, three things happen at once:

1. Your priorities reorder themselves. The things that seemed urgent, like being liked, keeping up, winning arguments, quietly move down the list. The things that seemed small — being kind to people, praying on time, calling your parents — quietly move up. You do not have to force it; it just happens once the lens is there.
2. Your fears shrink. Most of the things young men are afraid of look completely different when the akhirah is in the picture. Being seen praying at school or being teased for not drinking. From here, all of that looks smaller than it did. Not because the fear is fake, but because there is a bigger thing you are more mindful of — Allah, the Creator of the universe.
3. Your regrets stop building up. The single most common thing older Muslims say when asked about their life is: I wish I had spent more time on what mattered. Living with the akhirah in mind means you get to skip a lot of that regret.

The Three Things That Follow You

Here is a question that sounds dramatic but is actually a very useful daily tool.

If I had 24 hours left, what would I regret NOT doing?

You do not need to answer this the way you think you should. You need to answer it honestly. Maybe there is a prayer you have been putting off. It could be a sin you have been meaning to leave behind, and you procrastinate. The 24-hour test does not make you do all of it today. It just tells you what actually matters when the noise gets stripped away. And once you know that, you can start moving toward it, one small step at a time.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The intelligent person is the one who takes account of himself and works for what comes after death.” — Tirmidhi

Notice the word intelligent, not “religious,” not “piety.” Intelligent. Living with the end in mind is not just spiritual; it is practical and the smartest thing a person can do with limited time.

There is another hadith that describes what happens after a person dies. It is one of the most important sentences in the Sunnah, and it will change how you think about your life if you let it.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“When a person dies, all their deeds cease except three: a continuous charity, knowledge that is benefited from, and a righteous child who prays for them.” — Sahih Muslim

Read that carefully. Only three things will continue to benefit you beyond this worldly life. These don’t include your bank balance, your job title, or how many followers you have. Not any of the things the world spends its energy telling you to chase.

Sadaqah Jariyah: A continuous charity that keeps giving on your behalf. This could be a tree you planted while living. A well you helped in digging that provides water for people. A book you wrote, and the knowledge benefits the reader. Anything beneficial to Allah’s creatures after you are gone and still functions will count as a continuous charity for you.

Beneficial knowledge: Anything you learn and pass on. It may be something you taught your younger brother. A school you built or a child you supported to become a scholar. A khutbah point you shared with a friend. A skill you trained someone in. A reminder you posted on social media with the right intention, even one sincere lesson, can echo for generations.

A righteous child who makes du’a for you: This could be either biological or not. Someone you raised, mentored, or influenced enough that they remember to ask Allah for you when you can no longer ask for yourself.

That is what outlasts you, and that is the real inheritance, because everything else stays at the grave, including your loved ones and properties.

What This Week Asks of You

The akhirah is not something to be scared of. It is something to plan for, in a way that makes your dunya better, not smaller. Here are three practical things you can try this week. Each takes less than an hour and will bring out something positive in you.

One: Imagine your janazah scene.

Take a few minutes to imagine your funeral. I know it sounds absurd because some of you will feel like I am too young for that. Just imagine who will be there and what testimony they will give about you? Then, write three or four honest sentences based on your current life.

Then, pick ONE thing from what you wrote. One area where the version of you at your janazah does not yet match the version of you today. That is your project for this year. Work on building that aspect of your life to become better.

Two: Plan or start a sadaqah jariyah.

It does not have to be a huge one; a small one is fine too. Something you can genuinely start this month. Some ideas that actually work for young Muslims are:

• A small automatic donation to a charity that plants trees or builds wells. $1–5 a month is enough — it adds up over the years, and you may increase it as you grow and start earning.
• Sharing one beneficial Islamic post or article each week and letting it reach someone new. You could also start a ta’lim circle with your household.
• Teaching one thing you know to one person who does not know it. Volunteering an hour a week at the masjid could work too.

The point is not the size; it is starting the flow of good deeds now, so that when you die — may Allah preserve you for good — it keeps running.

Three: Plan to visit a Muslim cemetery.

This is a forgotten sunnah today. You’re not visiting as a tourist, nor for content. Actually, go to a Muslim graveyard, stand quietly, make du’a for the people buried there, and let yourself feel what you feel.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“I used to forbid you from visiting the graves. Now, visit them, for they remind you of the akhirah.” — Sahih Muslim

This will take you only a few minutes. So, plan it with your dad, brother, or friend. Just stand there and imagine the fate of the person lying helpless in there. Notice how young some of them were, which means it could be you, too.

One Last Thing

There is a du’a the Prophet ﷺ used to make often. It is short, and it is worth memorising this week.

Allahumma ij’al khayra ‘umuri akhirah, wa khayra ‘amali khawatimahu.

“O Allah, make the best of my life its ending, and the best of my deeds their conclusions.”

That is what living with the akhirah in mind actually means. Not being obsessed with death, but quietly aiming your life at the point when it will matter most, and trusting that Allah is going to help you get there.

You are not going to figure it all out today. That is fine; nobody ever does. The path is walked one deliberate step at a time, and the direction is what matters. You have time, but you also do not have as much of it as you think.

Both of those things are true at once, and neither cancels the other. May Allah make the best of our lives their endings, and the best of our deeds their conclusions. Amin!

This article is part of The Forge Series — a collection of reflections published weekly alongside The Forge Islamic Youth Development Programme. Whether you are a participant or a general reader, this piece is written for you. The Forge is a 9-week Virtual Islamic Summer Youth Development programme for Muslim brothers aged 15–18. If you or someone you know would like to be part of the next cohort, visit theforgeprogram.com or reach out at masculinitypure@gmail.com.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 3rd Safar, 1448AH // Friday 17th July, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

This is The Question You’ve Been Avoiding was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There is a night in the story of Prophet Musa that most of us pass over on our way to the more dramatic moments like the burning bush and the parting of the sea. The night I want to draw your attention to is smaller. It is the night after he had killed the Egyptian.

He did not mean to kill him. He was trying to break up a fight. But the man was dead, and Musa knew what that meant. He fled Egypt and crossed a desert with no plan, no food, no destination. He arrived in Madyan as an exhausted stranger with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Then he came across two girls willing to water their father’s flock. He helped them get water for the flock and left with no strings attached. And then he sat down under a tree. The Qur’an preserves the du’a he made in that moment, in Surah Al-Qasas 28:24:

“My Lord, indeed I am in need of whatever good You send down to me.”

Let’s observe this together. Musa did not ask for a house, a wife, or for his name to be cleared. He asks for anything good because he is a man with nothing and knows it, reduced to the honest position of someone who can no longer pretend.

Within hours, Allah sent him a wife, a father-in-law who would become his teacher, ten years of shepherding that would train him for prophethood, and eventually the mission that would define his life. But before any of that could happen, the ground had to give way beneath him.

This is what the Qur’an calls ibtila — trial, adversity, and challenges. And it is the subject we need to speak about honestly, because most of us have been given a version of it that does not survive contact with real life. And if you haven’t witnessed any yet because you’re still young, I will say: may your road be rough.

The Arabic word ibtila could be literally translated as — to test, to try, and to reveal through pressure. Allah tests His creation not to find out what is inside them, because He already knows, but to bring what is inside them to the surface so that they can know it themselves.

When you are young, this sounds like a warning. When you have lived a little, it sounds like a promise. Allah is not going to let your faith stay untested, because faith that has not been tested is not yet faith. It is an inheritance similar to a habit. Ibtila is what turns that inheritance into conviction. It is an uncomfortable relationship with a comfortable idea to believe in the existence of Allah.

But trials in Islam do not always come with a lesson attached. And this is where the Islamic understanding parts ways from the sanitised versions of it we sometimes receive. All trials are different. Some trials last decades, and some leave you permanently different from the person who went in.

Prophet ﷺ said:

“The greatest reward comes with the greatest trial. When Allah loves a people, He tests them. Whoever is content, for him is contentment. Whoever is angry, for him is anger.” — Tirmidhi

The Trial You Are Actually Living Through

Most of us are not in the middle of a dramatic, cinematic trial. We are not in a war zone like our brothers in Gaza, and we do not have a similar experience like in Musa’s story. But that does not mean we are not being tested. Everyone has one trial or another that they are facing in their lives. And this is a sign — Allah showing us that He is the One free from need, and we will always cry to Him for our needs.

The trials most young Muslim men are actually carrying tend to be quieter. An emotionally absent father, even though he provides. A persistent battle with something you are trying not to look at. A habit that has become an addiction that you’re struggling with. A sin you keep returning to, while hating yourself for not being able to quit with ease.

The pressure of school or work that never lifts. A grief you have not been permitted to name because someone in your life had it worse. Or maybe it is the specific modern trial of feeling spiritually numb. Doing everything you are supposed to be doing and still feeling like something essential is missing. All of that is encapsulated in ibtila. The Qur’an does not rank trials by how visible they are; it ranks them by what they produce in the person walking through them.

Here is the thing nobody tells you about ibtila until you are inside one. Adversities do not usually announce themselves; they arrive looking like ordinary difficulty. And most of the time, when you are in the middle of one, you cannot see it clearly. You just feel tired and know that something is wrong.

Ibn al-Qayyim wrote about this explicitly, and here’s a glimpse from his wisdom: The trial itself is only half of what Allah is doing. The other half is what the trial reveals. And what it reveals is not always what you wanted to know about yourself.

You find out you were more attached to certain things than you thought. You find out that a version of you that seemed strong was resting on circumstances that were not going to last. You find out that the faith you thought was solid was being held up by other people, and now those people are not there, and you have to find out whether the faith itself can stand.

That is the shape of it; you are not being punished, but you are being revealed to yourself. The version of you that comes out the other side is not the version that went in. Something has been burned away; something has been added. You have made peace, however partial, with the fact that Allah’s plan for your life is not the plan you would have written. That is what ibtila does, and that is what it is for.

The Companion Who Broke and Was Not Rejected

There is a story about a companion named Ka’b ibn Malik that I think about often. He was one of the companions who failed to join the expedition to Tabuk. Not because he had a good reason, but he kept putting it off. By the time he realised what he had done, it was too late.

When the army returned, other companions who had missed the expedition came to the Prophet ﷺ and offered excuses. The Prophet accepted their words. But when Ka’b came, he did something different. He told the truth, saying:

“O Messenger of Allah, if I sat before anyone else in this world, I could make him satisfied with an excuse. But I know that if I lied to you today, Allah would soon make you angry with me. And if I told you the truth and it displeased you, I hope for Allah’s forgiveness. By Allah, I had no excuse.”

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“As for this one, he has told the truth. Get up and wait until Allah decides about you.”

For fifty days, Ka’b was placed under a social boycott. Nobody spoke to him. Nobody returned his greetings. His wife was told to leave him. He describes walking through Madinah as feeling like walking through a strange city. At one point, he received a letter from a foreign king offering him refuge and a position of honour if he would come and abandon this community. But guess what, he burned it.

On the fiftieth day, at fajr, the Prophet ﷺ announced that Allah had accepted his repentance. Ka’b said afterwards that those fifty days were the greatest gift Allah had ever given him, not despite the suffering, but because of it. It was this trial that finally taught him who he was.

A Note on the Trials That Do Not End

Some of the people reading this may be living with trials for which they do not know the resolution date. This may include chronic illness, a family member whose difficulty is going to be part of your life indefinitely. A grief that has settled in and made itself part of who you are. Or even something that happened to you that cannot be undone.

If that is you, then this article is especially for you. The Quran does not promise that every trial will pass in this life. What it promises is not the end of the difficulty but the meaning of it. Allah says:

“And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient. Those who, when disaster strikes them, say, ‘Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return.’ Those are the ones upon whom are blessings from their Lord and mercy.” — Qur’an 2[Al-Baqarah]:155–157

Imagine what Allah said; He did not promise the removal of the trial. But blessings and mercy on the person who walks through it while still turning back to Allah. Ask anyone who has come out the other side of something they thought would break them — they will tell you that the presence of Allah in the middle of it was more real than anything else they have experienced. So, trials are like gifts offered to everyone, but only those who receive them with perseverance come out triumphant.

Ibtila is not something to prepare for; it is something to be present with when it arrives and to remember, when it does, that Allah has not forsaken you. Here are three things to sit with:

One. Think of one trial you are currently walking through. Name it to yourself. Then make one honest du’a about it. Not a script. Just the raw sentence, the way Musa did under the tree: “My Lord, I am in need.”

Two. Reflect on a trial you have already survived. What was Allah showing you through it, even if you could not see it at the time? What in your character was built in that test?

Three. Consider that someone you know is walking through something you cannot see. Try reaching out to them with no agenda except to ask how they are actually doing. Then listen and see if there’s anything you can do to help — even making dua’ on their behalf is not too small an effort.

The Prophet ﷺ was tested in every way a human being can be tested — poverty, loss, betrayal, exile, and the death of children. And through all of it, he became who he was meant to be. He did not do it by avoiding the uncomfortable trial. He did it by staying present in it and staying close to Allah.

This same model is available to you because the ground sometimes gives way. But the One who made the ground is still holding you, and He’s not going to let you down.

This article is part of The Forge Series — a collection of reflections published weekly alongside The Forge Islamic Youth Development Programme. Whether you are a participant or a general reader, this piece is written for you. The Forge is a 9-week Virtual Islamic Summer Youth Development programme for Muslim brothers aged 15–18. If you or someone you know would like to be part of the next cohort, visit theforgeprogram.com or reach out at masculinitypure@gmail.com.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 25th Muharram, 1448AH // Friday 10th July, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

When the Ground Gives Way Through Adversity was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There is a kind of ‘low-key’ anxiety that lives in the chest of almost every young person, somewhere between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, and it sharpens into something close to dread around the time everyone around them starts asking the same question: What are you going to do with your life?

Most people who ask it mean well. Parents are asking because they want you to be secure. Teachers are asking because they want to guide you to an early start on the chosen path. Uncles at family gatherings ask because they don’t know what else to say. The question is delivered casually, often without warning, and somewhere underneath the casual delivery is the unspoken assumption that you should already have an answer.

They don’t understand that figuring this out is the central task of being eighteen, and that not having it figured out is some kind of personal challenge you’re still dealing with mentally. If you have been carrying any version of that pressure, this article is for you. And if you are someone whose answer to that question feels borrowed, then this article is especially for you, too. Because the deen has a different answer to that question. And it is one that almost nobody is going to give you unless you go looking for it.

What Ibadah Actually Means

The Arabic word ibadah is usually translated as worship, and like most one-word translations, it loses more than it carries. In its narrow sense, ibadah means the explicit acts of worship like salah, fasting, hajj, dhikr, and recitation. Basically, the five pillars and the practices that surround them. This is the sense most of us were taught growing up, and it is real and important.

But the scholars of Islam are unanimous on a much wider definition. Ibadah, in its full meaning, is any action done in obedience to Allah and with the intention of pleasing Him. While eating, if you sit down with Bismillah and the intention to nourish the body Allah has entrusted to you, it is ibadah. Sleeping early so you can rise for Fajr is ibadah. Earning a halal income to provide for your family is ibadah. Smiling at your brother is ibadah, and numerous other actions similar to these.

The scholarly consensus is telling us that all of our life actions can be transformed into worship, and this is only explicit in Islam. Every hour, action, choice, provided you bring the right thing to it. That thing is called niyyah — intention. And it is the key that turns ordinary life into ibadah.

There is a reason Imam al-Bukhari, when he compiled the most rigorous collection of hadith in Islamic history, chose to open the entire collection with a single hadith. He could have started with anything about prayer, about fasting, about the pillars of belief. Instead, he chose this one, narrated by Umar ibn al-Khattab:

“Actions are only by intentions, and every person will get what he intended.” — Sahih Bukhari

That placement is strategic and a teaching in itself. Imam Al-Bukhari is signalling to every Muslim who would ever open his book that the entire deen rests on this principle. Not the action you do, but the intention behind it. Two people can perform identical actions, and one is performing ibadah and the other is performing theatre. The difference is invisible to everyone except Allah.

What this means in practice is that the same day you’re living now can be the most ordinary day of your life or the most spiritually significant day you have ever had. And the only thing that decides which one it will be is whether you bring niyyah into it. This is the secret most career conversations completely miss. They focus entirely on what you do, while the deen focuses on why you do it. And the why turns out to matter infinitely more than the what.

The Companions Were Not Career Counsellors

It is worth pausing on something that gets lost in modern conversations about Islamic identity and work: almost none of the most beloved Companions of the Prophet ﷺ had a “calling” in the way the modern world uses that word. They had work, and often, they had several different kinds of work over their lifetime.

The Prophet ﷺ himself, before prophethood, was a shepherd. Then he was a merchant. He travelled with caravans, conducted trade on behalf of Khadijah, and earned a reputation for honesty so widespread that they called him Al-Amin — The Trustworthy — long before he was called Rasulullah. The Prophet ﷺ was not chosen because he found his calling. He was chosen because the character he had built in his ordinary work made him ready to receive an extraordinary one.

Abu Bakr traded in clothing, and Umar ibn al-Khattab dealt with grain. Uthman ibn Affan was one of the wealthiest merchants in Madinah. His wealth was deployed for the sake of Allah, funded entire campaigns, and dug the well of Rumah for the Muslims, which is still serving as an ongoing charity to date. AbdurRahman ibn Awf, when he arrived in Madinah as a refugee with nothing, asked only for directions to the marketplace and built a trading empire from zero.

None of these men woke up one morning and discovered their passion; they worked. They worked at what was available, what their families had trained them in, what their gifts and circumstances pointed them toward. And what made their work ibadah was not that they had stumbled onto some unique destiny. It was that they brought sincerity, honesty, and the remembrance of Allah into the ordinary acts of buying, selling, leading, and serving.

Abu Bakr, after accepting Islam, asked the Prophet ﷺ what his role was in this faith. Allah’s Apostle ﷺ told him, " It’s that you call people to the way of Allah as I am doing”. The same day, Abu Bakr went to the market for his daily trading, and he came back to the Messenger of Allah ﷺ with some of the greatest companions who had embraced Islam early. The likes of Zubay ibn Al-Awwam, Talha ibn Ubaydullah, Uthman ibn Affan, and Sa’d ibn Abi Waqas were all from this category and among the ten given glad tidings of paradise. Abu Bakr was making money in his trade, yet he was also earning rewards by calling these people to the way of Allah.

This should be enormously freeing for any young person who is reading this with a knot in their stomach because they don’t know what they want to do. The deen is not asking you to find a magical, perfectly-fitted calling. The deen is asking you to bring your whole self before Allah into whatever halal work you end up doing, and to keep refining that until it shapes the man you become.

That said, what you do matters too. Not all work is equally aligned with your gifts, and not all work serves the Ummah in the same way. There is a real Islamic question about how to find work that is more than just permissible. I mean, work that actually uses what Allah gave you for what He intends it to be used for.

The Questions Behind the Question

Most of us, when we ask “what should I do with my life,” are actually asking three different questions at once, and we get stuck because we are treating them as one.

The first question is: what would make me happy? This is the question the modern world trains us to ask. Follow your passion, find your bliss, and do what you love. There is something genuine in this: Allah did not design human beings to spend their lives in work that crushes their spirit. But as a primary question, it has a flaw. What makes you happy at eighteen is often not what makes you happy at thirty. And work built solely around your happiness tends to collapse the moment the happiness fades, as it always does with time.

The second question is: what would make me successful? This is the question parents and culture often ask on our behalf. What profession pays well, and which one earns respect? There is also something real in this: Islam does not ask you to be poor, and provision is part of how you serve the people who depend on you. Again, as a primary question, it has a flaw too. Worldly success has a tendency to expand to fill whatever container you give it. The man who chose his career for status often finds that no amount of status is enough.

The third question, and the one Islam quietly insists is the right one, is: what would Allah have me do? This is not a mystical question requiring a spiritual vision. It is a practical question with a practical structure. What gifts did Allah give me? What needs are around me? What work could I do where my honest effort, done with niyyah, would serve both my family and the Ummah, and where I could go to my grave knowing the trust was used and not buried?

This is the question that makes a difference and produces real direction. It is equally the question that almost no career conversation outside the deen will ask you to consider. You can apply it to any field or profession. In medicine, you go with the niyyah to save lives, not because the career is lucrative. You will end up with both rewards and money in sha Allah. You can also apply this in law by being a distinctive attorney who upholds justice, stands for fairness, and will not compromise Islamic standards in return for wealth. Applying this as a teacher, the knowledge you share that impacts students will be an ongoing charity for you. Even content creators can earn rewards by calling to goodness with their platform.

The ‘Islamic Ikigai’ Model

There is a useful framework for getting at this question, borrowed in name from a Japanese concept but reshaped here for an Islamic lens. Let’s call it the Islamic Ikigai, and it asks you to sit honestly with four questions until your real answer starts to take shape.

One: What do I love? What activity makes time disappear for you? When are you most alive, most present, most aware of being yourself? Be specific.

Two: What am I gifted at? What do people consistently come to you for? What feels almost easy to you that other people find hard? Your gifts are not always the things you love most — sometimes they are the things you take for granted because they have always been there. Ask three people who know you well to name one strength they see in you. Their answers, taken together, are usually closer to the truth than your own.

Three: What does the Ummah need? What problem in your community, your city, or the wider world breaks your heart when you see it? You don’t have to fix all of it. You don’t even have to fix most of it. But somewhere on the long list of needs, there is one or two that, when you read about them, make something in you go quiet and pay attention. That attention is a signal.

Four: What sustains me? What would you do even if the pay was modest? Also, what would you refuse to do even if the pay were excellent? This question separates the work you would do for love from the work you would only do for money. Both are real and both matter, but you need to know which is which before you can make a clear-eyed choice.

The work that lives at the intersection of all four: what you love, what you’re gifted at, what the Ummah needs, and what sustains you. That work, brought before Allah with the right intention, is your ibadah. Almost no one finds the perfect overlap immediately. Most find a partial overlap and refine it over the years, and that is normal.

The point of the question is not to solve your career today. The point is to start asking the right question now, so that by the time you have to make decisions you cannot easily reverse, you have given the right question enough thought to have earned the right kind of answer.

A Note on the Anxiety

It would be dishonest to write this article without acknowledging something specific: a lot of young Muslims reading this are quietly carrying significant anxiety about not having figured out their path yet. You’re not alone, as I was once in your shoes too. I used to remember how my ambition transformed from wanting to be an astronaut as a kid to a passion for soccer, which made me have second thoughts, but my Mom wouldn’t let me trail that path. Although I have a degree in computing and worked in tech for years, I am a dai’ and a business owner today.

Don’t be bothered even if everyone around you seems to know what they want, and you don’t. Maybe your parents have a specific career in mind for you that doesn’t match what you actually feel pulled toward, and the conflict has gone underground because you don’t want to disappoint them. You might have changed your mind three times already, and you are starting to wonder if there is something wrong with you.

None of that means you are behind. The fact that you are even thinking about these questions at fifteen, eighteen, or twenty-two puts you well ahead of where most adults are when they finally have to sit with them. The deen does not measure your worth by how clearly you have answered the career question at any particular age.

You are not late, you are not lost, and you are in the part of life where these questions are supposed to be open. Your job is to ask them honestly and to keep showing up at the work in front of you with niyyah, until the larger shape of your life starts to clarify on its own, and as you grow. The deen is patient with honest, sincere, and intentional people. Be one of them.

This article is part of The Forge Series — a collection of reflections published weekly alongside The Forge Islamic Youth Development Programme. Whether you are a participant or a general reader, this piece is written for you. The Forge is a 9-week Virtual Islamic Summer Youth Development programme for Muslim brothers aged 15–18. If you or someone you know would like to be part of the next cohort, visit theforgeprogram.com or reach out at masculinitypure@gmail.com.

PS: Success comes only by the will of Allah! If you find this piece beneficial, it’s by Allah’s Grace. It’s not a scholarly work, and we accept our mistakes. Suggestions are welcome to make this effort better as well. You are free to share by any means for enlightenment purposes. We ask Allah to keep us guided and steadfast upon the right path. Do subscribe to Jum’ah Nugget to get our subsequent publication in sha Allah!

Yaumul Jum’ah 18th Muharram, 1448AH // Friday 3rd July, 2026.

• You may join my WhatsApp Broadcast channel called “Islamic Reminders,” where you can find some more beneficial stuff.
• You can also check out my faith-based podcast called Pure Masculinity. It reminds us to become better Muslim men — sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. Listen to the latest episode, follow, and share the pages on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and TikTok.
• If you like what I write and would like to support a charitable cause, kindly donate to Rafeeqee Foundation.

What If Your Whole Life Could Count as Worship? was originally published in Jumah Nugget on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

There is a hadith most of us have heard, and most of us have heard only half of. The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The strong believer is more beloved to Allah than the weak believer.”

That is the half part people quote. It gets shared on Friday in posts about discipline, about not making excuses, about getting up early and lifting weights, and being the kind of Muslim man who has his life together. And it is true and good because it gives a sense of belonging.

But the rest of the hadith, as recorded in Sahih Muslim, of the same narration ended by saying:

“…and there is good in both.”

Let’s sit with that for a moment because almost every conversation about strength stops before that second clause: and there is good in both. The strong believer is more beloved, but the weak believer is not condemned either. He is not abandoned, as there is still good in him. The hadith opens up, rather than the way we make it look like it closes down. It calls us upward without crushing those who are not there yet.

This is the entire prophetic disposition toward strength. It is asked for, praised, and described as beloved to Allah. And it is held in a frame that does not despise those who are still building it. That tension of strength called beloved, while weakness is still held with mercy, is the entire conversation this week.

Before we talk about what strength is in Islam, it is worth being honest about what the world has trained most of us to think it is. When you open most apps that have algorithms aimed at young men, the picture is consistent. Strength is the physically biggest version of yourself. Strength is the loudest in the room. Strength is not needing anyone. Strength is not crying. Strength is dominating, winning, finishing first, never apologising.

In reality, a lot of this is not strength at all. Some of it is performance, and some of it is actually fear wearing a mask. And it is sometimes the specific kind of fragility that requires constant external validation to keep itself convinced.

The Prophet ﷺ saw all of this clearly, fifteen centuries before the algorithms, and named it plainly by giving us one of the most directly counter-cultural hadith in history:

“The strong is not the one who overcomes people by his strength. The strong is the one who controls himself when angry.” — Sahih Bukhari

Read that with whatever picture of strength you grew up with in your head, and notice the friction. The Prophet ﷺ is not describing a different amount of strength. He is describing a different kind — one whose mark is not what you can do to others, but what you can do with yourself.

The Four Dimensions of Strength

If you try to build strength in only one dimension of yourself, you eventually discover something uncomfortable. The dimension you neglected becomes the limit of all the others. And here is a clearer picture of what I mean…

The man who builds his body but neglects his soul reaches a ceiling where physical strength no longer protects him from despair. The man who builds his mind but neglects his body finds that his thinking gets cloudy when his sleep is broken. The man who builds his spiritual life but ignores his emotions discovers that bottled feelings eventually rupture the discipline he worked so hard to establish.

Islam, when you understand it carefully, does not ask you to choose. It asks you to train all four: the body, the mind, the heart, and the soul.

1. The Body (Physical): The Prophet ﷺ encouraged physical strength, and his own life modelled it. He wrestled, rode horses, and walked everywhere. His companions described him as someone whose energy was striking even into his sixties. The deen explicitly calls the body an amanah, a trust given to you, not a possession you own. What you eat, how you sleep, whether you move, and whether you keep this trust ready for service, these are not lifestyle choices in Islam. They are forms of worship or forms of neglect.
2. The Mind (Mental): The very first revelation of the Qur’an was Iqra — read. The deen places enormous weight on knowledge, on sustained thinking, on the discipline of sitting with a difficult text or a difficult question without fleeing to easier stimulation. The Prophet ﷺ said seeking knowledge is an obligation on every Muslim. This kind of knowledge takes time and requires focus, building a mind capable of weighing things rather than just reacting to them.
3. The Heart (Emotional): Emotional strength in Islam does not look like the stoicism the world celebrates. It does not mean feeling nothing. The Prophet ﷺ wept openly when his son Ibrahim died, when he stood by the graves of those he loved, and when the Quran was recited with particular force. He did not perform composure. He had the deeper strength of feeling fully without being controlled by what he felt. That is what the hadith about anger points to. The strongest is not the one without anger. He is the one who, with anger fully present, can still choose how to act.
4. The Soul (Spiritual): This is the dimension everything else rests on. Salah is not optional, nor is Dhikr. The connection to Allah is not a self-care practice; it is the foundation that prevents all the other strengths from becoming tools for the dunya only. A physically strong man without taqwa — piety eventually uses his body for the wrong things. A mentally sharp man without yaqeen — certainty eventually argues himself into oppression. A man with composed emotions but no relationship with Allah eventually finds that composure isn’t enough. Without the soul, the other three become weapons in the wrong hands, including your own.

The Man With Strength Who Still Wept

There is a famous narration about Umar ibn al-Khattab, the second Caliph of Islam, the man whose name is almost synonymous with strength. This was a man whose conversion to Islam was so significant that the Muslims were said to have prayed openly at the Ka’bah for the first time after he accepted the deen. A man whose mere walking down a street would cause shaytan to take a different route, according to one hadith. Umar led armies, governed an empire, and broke the spine of the Persian and Byzantine forces. By every visible metric of the world, he was the strongest man of his time.

And he wept in his prayers so deeply that those who prayed behind him could hear it from rows back. He carried sacks of flour on his own back, at night, in secret, to the homes of widows and orphans who did not even know who was leaving the food. When asked why he, the Caliph, would do something a servant could do, he is reported to have said something to the effect that he would be the one answering to Allah for them on the Day of Judgment, so it must be him who fed them in this world.

This is what the prophetic standard of strength actually looks like when it has fully formed in a man. It is simple, not loud; it is gentle, not hard. It is not visible to the public, but an internal strength from within. It has endless capabilities. Capable of leading armies and weeping in sujood. Capable of holding power and refusing the privileges of it. Capable of carrying flour in the dark for someone who will never know his name. Capable of receiving a public correction from a woman in his congregation and saying, in front of everyone, “the woman is right, and Umar is wrong.”

And here is another interesting story about Umar’s internal strength. A man went to the house of Umar ibn al-Khattab, intending to complain about his wife’s harsh behavior. As he approached, he heard Umar’s own wife raising her voice at him. Umar listened without responding harshly.

The man thought to himself, “If this is the situation with Umar, the Commander of the Believers, then what hope is there for me?” He quietly turned to leave. Umar noticed him and called him back, asking why he had come. The man explained, “I came to complain about my wife, but when I heard your wife speaking to you like that, I decided to return home.”

Umar replied, “I bear with her because she has rights over me. She cooks my food, bakes my bread, washes my clothes, nurses my children, even though none of these are obligatory upon her. She also brings comfort to my heart and helps protect me from falling into what Allah has forbidden. For these reasons, I overlook her shortcomings.”

The man said, “Commander of the Believers, my wife does the same for me.” Umar then advised him: “Then be patient with her. This life is short.” The man we celebrate as the prototype of Islamic strength was, by his own standard, a man who controlled himself when angry, wept when reciting the Qur’an, and served those who could not repay him. That is not a coincidence; it is the standard by design.

Building The Strength Allah Loves

The world tends to describe strength as something you have, like a trait — either you are strong, or you aren’t, and the strong ones were just born that way. Islam describes strength as something you build slowly through specific repeated actions over time.

The Prophet ﷺ was explicit about the method as he mentioned in the hadith below:

“The most beloved deeds to Allah are the most consistent, even if they are small.” — Sahih Bukhari

Here are five practical ways to become the kind of believer who is beloved to Allah:

1. Strengthen Your Relationship with Allah: Every form of strength begins with faith. Guard your five daily prayers, recite the Qur’an consistently, remember Allah often, and make du’a with conviction. A heart connected to Allah remains firm even when life is uncertain. Allah says:

Indeed, those who say, “Our Lord is Allāh” and then remain steadfast— the angels will descend upon them, [saying], “Do not fear and do not grieve but receive good tidings of Paradise, which you were promised. " — Qur’an 41[Fussilat]:30

2. Train Your Body: The believer’s body is an amanah — trust, so treat it as such. Eat well, exercise regularly, sleep adequately, and care for your health. Physical fitness isn’t vanity; it equips you to worship Allah better, serve your family, support your community, and endure hardship.

3. Develop Emotional Resilience: Strength is not the absence of emotion but the ability to govern it. Learn patience, control your anger, forgive those who wrong you, and remain hopeful during trials. A strong believer responds to hardship with wisdom rather than impulse. The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The strong person is not the one who overcomes others in wrestling, but the one who controls himself when angry.” — Sahih al-Bukhari and Muslim

4. Seek Beneficial Knowledge and Act Upon It: Knowledge strengthens faith and protects you from confusion. Study the Qur’an, the Sunnah, and the fundamentals of Islam, then translate what you learn into action. True strength comes from living by the truth, not merely knowing it.

5. Embrace Challenges Instead of Avoiding Them: Growth rarely happens inside your comfort zone. Accept responsibilities, serve others, learn new skills, and persevere through difficulties. Every challenge faced with sincerity and reliance on Allah becomes an opportunity to grow stronger.

Allah’s Apostle ﷺ encouraged us thus in the following hadith:

“Pursue that which benefits you, seek Allah’s help, and do not give up.” — Sahih Muslim

And on the Days You Feel Weak

It would be dishonest to write this article without naming what most readers will already be sitting with: a sense of how far they are from any of this. You may be reading this and thinking your salah is not where it should be. Your discipline is patchy, your phone owns more of your day than you want to admit. You may be looking at the description of Umar carrying flour and feeling, somewhere underneath the inspiration, a small voice that says: That is not me, and I do not know how to become that.

Hear this clearly. The hadith we opened with did not end at “the strong believer is more beloved.” It ended at “and there is good in both.” Meaning both the strong believer and weak believer are good in the eyes of Allah. Allah did not condemn weakness; He called it less beloved than strength. Those are not the same thing. The deen is not built for the people who have already arrived. It is built for the people who are honestly, sincerely, slowly, and repeatedly trying to become better, even if they struggle.

Here’s what I ask of you this week — assess yourself doing these three things:

One. Score yourself honestly across the four dimensions — physical, mental, emotional, spiritual — each on a scale of five. Be honest with yourself and do not perform for an imaginary audience. Just see the numbers as they are at the moment.

Two. Identify the dimension where you scored lowest, and commit to one small, daily, repeated action for it throughout the week. It does not have to be heroic or impressive, just consistent. It could be five minutes, one page, a short walk, or salah on time with khushoo.

Three. Sit with this question and let it stay uncomfortable: What is the one thing you are most afraid might break you? Not what you want to share — what you actually carry. You do not have to say it out loud. You have to be willing to look at it. Naming it is the first step to surviving it, and Allah already knows.

May Allah grant you the strength to navigate the murky waters of your life. Amin!

This article is part of The Forge Series — a collection of reflections published weekly alongside The Forge Islamic Youth Development Programme. Whether you are a participant or a general reader, this piece is written for you. The Forge is a 9-week Virtual Islamic Summer Youth Development programme for Muslim brothers aged 15–18. If you or someone you know would like to be part of the next cohort, visit theforgeprogram.com or reach out at masculinitypure@gmail.com.

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Yaumul Jum’ah 10th Muharram, 1448AH // Friday 26th June, 2026.

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