Tag: 3 am meets with my beloved GOD

Before the Dawn Slips Away..

We live in a world where delay feels harmless. We say, “I will begin tomorrow… when life settles… when I am older… when I feel ready.” But tomorrow is the most fragile illusion ever created. It looks close enough to touch, yet it lives beyond a door none of us are guaranteed to open. Every heartbeat is a borrowed moment, every breath a mercy we did nothing to deserve, yet we behave as if time is our loyal servant, patiently waiting for us to get our lives in order.

But time is not loyal. Time is not patient. Time is simply passing. And fast.

People often speak of life as though it stretches endlessly ahead, as if youth is a shield and health a contract. But the truth is sharper, humbler, and much more sobering, people younger than us have returned to their Creator. People who had plans for the evening never made it past the afternoon. Hearts that beat loudly in laughter just yesterday are silent today. Nobody stepped into this world with a scroll promising them a long life and nobody leaves after sending a polite notice.

Death needs no reason, no age, no appointment. It does not wait for your spiritual awakening. It does not respect your calendar or your comfort. And when it comes, it only asks one question.. What did you send ahead of you?

This is why the greatest tragedy is not death itself, but dying before you have lived with purpose, sincerity, and remembrance. We postpone our return to Allah as if we control the hour of our departure. We imagine we will pray when life becomes easier, when the storms settle, when our hearts feel lighter. But prayer is what brings ease. Remembrance is what calms the storm. Walking toward Allah is what lightens the heart.

The door to Allah has never needed a perfect version of you, only a willing one.

Every moment you are alive is an invitation. The breath in your chest is not just oxygen, it is permission. Permission to turn back, to rise, to begin again. Not next week. Not when you “feel spiritual.” Not when everything is perfect. Now. Because “now” is the only moment you can truly call yours.

Imagine the regret of waiting for the “right time” to pray, only to find your body being wrapped in a white shroud while others pray over you. Imagine realising too late that the words you postponed saying were the ones that could have saved your soul.

Life is heartbreakingly short. But that is what makes it beautifully urgent.

Start today, not because you fear death, but because you deserve the peace that comes with stepping toward Allah. Start because your soul has been starving for a connection you keep postponing. Start because every prayer is an anchor, every sujood a healing, every whisper of SubhanAllah a light on a path you have walked in darkness for too long.

And start because your next breath is a blessing, not a guarantee.

This life is only two days..

One that has already slipped through your fingers. And one that is melting away even as you read this.

There is no promise of tomorrow.

But there is a promise from Allah..

Whoever walks toward Me, I will run toward them.

Walk now. Start now.

Before the dawn slips away.

What part of your routine do you always try to skip if I can???

What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?

“Sometimes the hardest battles are the quiet ones, the moments you choose to care for yourself when no one is watching, and healing begins in the smallest acts of love.”

If there is one part of my daily routine I often find myself wanting to skip, it would be cooking, or even eating. For many, food represents comfort, connection, and routine. But for me, over the past year, it has come to symbolize something entirely different. Being alone has changed my relationship with meals in ways I never expected. Where once there might have been conversation and laughter over a shared plate, now there is quiet, sometimes too quiet.

When you are on your own, even the simplest tasks start to feel heavier. Cooking, which should be an act of nourishment, begins to feel like a chore, especially when there is no one to share it with. The sizzle of food in the pan does not sound the same when it is only for one. The aroma that used to fill the kitchen no longer carries the same warmth, it just lingers in the silence.

Illness, too, has played its part in this change. When your body feels weary, even the thought of preparing a meal can be overwhelming. Some days, appetite fades into the background of fatigue, and nourishment becomes more of an obligation than a pleasure. You tell yourself you will eat later, but later sometimes never comes.

Still, I try to remind myself that this, too, is a part of my journey. That even in the loneliness and the weariness, there is meaning. That healing, both physical and emotional, often begins with the smallest acts of care, like cooking for yourself even when you do not feel like it. It is not just about food, it is about reclaiming pieces of your strength, one quiet moment at a time.

So yes, cooking or eating may be the part of my routine I would rather skip, but I am learning that sometimes the things we resist most are the ones that hold the power to nurture us back to life.

Do Not Let Your History Interfere With Your Destiny..

You are not what happened to you, you are what you choose to become next.

Your past may explain you, but it should never define you. We all carry history, stories we do not talk about, wounds that shaped our silence, and moments that made us question our worth. But there comes a point where you have to decide, will your history be your anchor, or your teacher? Because if you do not draw that line, your past will keep showing up like an uninvited guest, sitting at the table of your future and eating away at your destiny.

See, destiny does not care about where you have been, it cares about where you are going. History will always whisper, reminding you of every failure, every heartbreak, every betrayal. It will tell you that you are not good enough, that you have messed up too much, that you have lost too many times. But destiny? Destiny speaks in silence. It waits for you to believe again, to rise again, to take the same hands that once trembled and turn them into instruments of power and purpose.

The truth is, your past is a place of reference, not residence. You visit it to learn, not to live there. Staying stuck in your history is like re-reading the same painful chapter and wondering why the story never moves forward. You cannot build a new life when you keep decorating the ruins of the old one. Healing does not mean you forget what happened, it means you no longer let it decide what happens next.

Let us be honest, some of what you have been through broke you in ways you do not even talk about. But it also built a strength that people cannot see. You did not come this far to let your pain become your personality. The greatest trap is believing that because something was, it must always be. That is not truth, that is trauma talking. And the moment you silence that voice, you make room for divine redirection.

Your destiny is still calling. It is calling beyond your disappointments, beyond your regrets, beyond your mistakes. The same GOD who saw you fall is the same one who wrote a comeback into your story. Your history might have taught you survival, but your destiny demands transformation.

So, stop rehearsing your pain. Start re-writing your purpose. Do not let the version of you that was hurt stop the version of you that was chosen. Your future is not waiting for the perfect you, it is waiting for the healed you, the ready you, the fearless you.

Because you are not the sum of your history .. You are the promise of your destiny.

Hasbunallahu wa ni’mal wakeel.. Allah is sufficient for me..

There comes a time in every soul’s journey when the heart grows weary. Weary of giving, weary of holding on, weary of watching people walk away as if they never once called your heart home. You sit in silence, not because you have nothing to say, but because you finally understand that words cannot change what is written, and pain cannot reverse what is destined. It is in those moments, when the ache feels heavier than your chest can carry, that this divine reminder softly echoes through your soul.. “Hasbunallahu wa ni’mal wakeel.”

Allah is sufficient for me, and He is the best disposer of my affairs.

These words are not merely a phrase. They are a declaration of surrender. They are what the broken whisper when the world turns its back. They are the anthem of every believer who has faced loss and still chooses faith. They are the strength behind silent tears and trembling hands that rise in prayer when everything else seems lost. Because when you say Allah is sufficient for me, you are releasing every burden you have been trying to carry on your own. You are saying,

“I trust You, Ya Allah, even when I do not understand. I believe You have a reason even when I cannot see one.”

You see, the human heart is fragile. We attach, we love deeply, and we expect those we hold close to stay forever. But people are temporary, some are lessons, some are blessings, and some are both. And when they leave, the void they create feels unbearable. Yet Allah never allows something to leave your life unless it was taking up the space meant for something greater, maybe peace, maybe healing, maybe your return to Him. The pain of their absence is often the divine push that brings you closer to the only One who never leaves.

Hasbunallahu wa ni’mal wakeel, reminds you that you do not need closure from people who walked away. You do not need validation from those who could not see your worth. You do not need to chase after hearts that were never meant to stay. Because the One who wrote your story has already written your healing into it. And when you let go of what you thought you needed, you make space for what you truly deserve, divine contentment, inner peace, and unshakable faith.

Spiritually, this phrase is a shield. It guards your heart from despair and your soul from doubt. It shifts your focus from what you have lost to the One who never stops giving. Every disappointment becomes protection. Every unanswered prayer becomes redirection. Every ending becomes the beginning of something unseen yet divinely prepared. And when your heart finally learns to say “Allah is sufficient for me”, truly say it, you stop seeking comfort in temporary things. You start finding peace even in uncertainty.

Sometimes, Allah removes people not to hurt you, but to heal you. He takes away what you cling to so you can learn to cling only to Him. He tests your attachment so you may realize that His love is the only one that will not break you. He lets hearts betray you so you can understand that reliance on creation always leads to heartbreak, but reliance on the Creator leads to serenity.

And yes, it is okay to be tired? tired of trying, tired of caring too much, tired of watching people leave. But even in your exhaustion, know this, you are not alone.

The same Lord who split the sea for Musa (AS), who comforted the Prophet ﷺ in the cave, and who turned every hardship into wisdom, is the same Lord watching over you now. He sees your pain. He counts your tears. And He promises that “Indeed, with hardship comes ease.” (Qur’an 94:6)

So let them go, those who left without looking back, those who made you feel replaceable, those who did not see your worth. You do not have to chase what is no longer meant for you. Your heart deserves peace, not confusion. And when you whisper Hasbunallahu wa ni’mal wakeel, you are not just letting go, you are being elevated. You are placing your trust in the One who knows the unseen, who hears what your silence says, and who will never let you down.

Because the truth is, you have never really lost anything that was meant for your soul. What leaves your life does not define you, your faith does. What breaks you, does not destroy you, your surrender heals you. And what hurts you today will one day become the reason you say,

“If it was not for that pain, I would not have found Allah this deeply.”

So breathe. Let the tears fall if they must. But when you wipe them away, do it with conviction. Whisper it again, and let it settle into the cracks of your heart like light filling darkness..

Hasbunallahu wa ni’mal wakeel.

Allah is sufficient for me, in loss, in loneliness, in love, and in life.

Because He always was. And He always will be.