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An Asian female radiation therapist places markers on a short face mask fitted to a patient model to ensure the correct position within a computed tomography (CT) scanner and later in the radiation treatment room. 2010

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A Stunning View of a Spiral Galaxy in the Vastness of Space

Since I was a child, Allah has always made His presence undeniably clear to me. Not just in the obvious signs, but in the quiet ones—in the way He comforted my heart in solitude, in the way He let truth flicker in my soul even when everything around me was confusing. He helped me believe, piece by piece. He knew my personality. He knew what would spark my faith, and He guided me accordingly—never rushing it, always aligning it with who I was becoming.In recent years, though, many people have misunderstood that connection.Some thought I was part of some cult. Others believed I turned directly toward Allah only because I made a mistake, or because I couldn’t handle the grief after my father passed away. But what they didn’t know—what they couldn’t see—were the gruesome, emotional realities that lived inside that house. The suffering that was kept behind closed doors. The spiritual war that tried to eat away at my light.They didn’t know how Allah preserved me.They didn’t know that I didn't just pray for survival, but for sincerityAnd they couldn’t recognize that my closeness to Him wasn’t born from fear, but from truth, love, and pure intentions.That’s why I speak often about how Allah guides each of us according to our lives, our personalities, and even our aspirations. He doesn’t impose a generic blueprint for belief. He inspires us in ways only our hearts can understand. He tailored my path—because the life I was living needed a very specific kind of light to shine through the darkness.When the truth became too hard to carry in silence, I had to step down—emotionally, socially, physically—from everything that was being affected. I’ve lost roles, lost relationships, and been cast aside in some ways. But what they were missing—what no one could erase—was the love and truth that I couldn’t hide anymoreI’ve felt it clearly:Allah has warned me that my time in this life is going to be shorter than expected.And more recently, He has appointed that it is soon.That’s not something I say lightly. That’s not grief or despair talking. That’s a knowing --the kind that comes when your soul is in tune with its Lord. When you’ve made peace with what you must leave behind, and when your heart is fully aware of the greater world that waits beyond this one.So I don’t beg for understanding anymore. I just leave behind these words…For those who wonder and thise who judge.For those who might one day need to remember how true love for Allah—never needed to be explained.

Life Lived for Light

Sketch of Red Crayon Heart on White Background

The realm of angels is not far removed from our reality; it is the unseen protection, the divine presence, and the silent advocacy that Allah assigns to every soul born into this world. Their purpose is not abstract—it is intimate, specific, and divinely aligned with the path each of us is meant to walk.From the moment of our creation, Allah, in His infinite mercy, grants us a form of insurance: the angels who record every deed, every thought, every movement of the heart. These are not just records—they are precise, purposeful reflections of our spiritual journey. Every word uttered, every action taken, is measured and balanced with justice. This divine accounting system is not to shame us, but to offer us redemption. Through these records, we retrieve reason, we reclaim clarity, and we find the means to rise from our mistakes with hope.But more than insurance, the angels are an assurance—a reassurance of Allah’s love and nearness. Their presence does more than observe; it shapes. They illuminate the intentions behind our actions, and it is through our intentions that they advocate for us. Their enthusiasm is a quiet force that surrounds those whose hearts are sincerely turned toward Allah. In gatherings of remembrance, in moments of dua, in the stillness of prayer—angels descend, bringing peace, calm, and a divine echo of belonging.They are made of light, reflections of what we lack, and yet yearn to attain. They carry the Qur’an not in memory, but in essence. They carry Allah’s will not in theory, but in being. We, made of clay, carry the blessing of free will—a gift that demands responsibility. And so, while they embody the Qur’an, we must build it within us. We must memorize it, live it, feel it, and engrave it upon our hearts.The angels exist as a reminder: that we are not alone in our striving. That in every sincere effort, there is unseen help. That Allah’s mercy surrounds us through them—documenting, guiding, and silently uplifting us as we attempt to align with His light.Their realm is not distant—it is beside us. In every moment of remembrance, every repentance, every step toward good, the angels draw near. They are Allah’s promise, His protection, and the bearers of peace, advocating for our souls in both this life and the next.And so I write this not just as a mother, but as a soul who has been entrusted with the amanah of raising children under the shadow of divine guidance, with the angels watching over each of our choices—mine, theirs, and even those of the ones who have tried to rewrite our story without justice.To my children, if you ever read this, I want you to know: all the times I spoke to you about what we were going through—those difficult days, the emotional heaviness, the things that felt too big for your hearts to carry—none of it was ever the way I imagined guiding you. I never wanted to pass the deen through pain, but now I understand why those conversations never progressed.&nbsp; As your mother, I chose to protect your hearts, not push them. I gave the deen a home in our space, but I kept a respectful distance between its full practice and your growing understanding—not out of weakness, but wisdom. I wanted you to see it, not just obey it. To admire it before being overwhelmed by its discipline. To recognize the light of Allah in it before associating it with hardship. I thought if I helped you build cognitive confidence first—emotional intelligence, self-awareness, independence—you’d be better equipped to balance your Islamic identity with the outside world. That you’d choose it, like I did, when the time came.It was my “getaway plan” from bad peer pressure. A way to keep you away from drugs, addictions, emotional dependencies, and the pitfalls I knew could come for you. And maybe in part, I failed. Maybe the timing was off. Maybe I gave too much freedom, or didn’t explain enough. But maybe, just maybe, Allah knew this path better than I ever could.What we’re facing now—this painful distance between us—is not because of a lack of love, or a lack of faith. It’s because of outside influences that made their way into our bond. I know you're being pressured by your father to be distant with me in order to make our relationship difficult. What makes it harder is that he's not alone in this with my own mother and my sister, the very people who should have stood by me during hardship, have also fueled the division.And what hurt most wasn’t their betrayal of me—but their betrayal of you. <span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">They’ve encouraged you to doubt me. To mistreat me. To see me through a distorted lens. And as painful as it is to admit, their influence has created a version of me in your eyes that doesn’t reflect who I truly am. <span data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">Only Allah knows and the Angels are always there. <span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">They’ve been with us all along— and they won't leave you habaybi. Deep down, I believe your hearts know the mother I am , my protection for you, &nbsp;my passion to teach you emotional awareness, and my guarding of your hearts. But right now, you’re being pressured and told to hold back from me. You’ve been taught that strength means silence—and that standing by me would cost you too much.You know what I've taught you and how and why. We have to endure this by trusting the will of Allah and don't ever deny or stop relying on Him and His angels. You just don't stop believing. Be the angels I know you to be.&nbsp; Disclaimer: I will be relieving my entire family, parent, siblings, aunts, uncles, &amp; cousins from the burden they believed I was to them.&nbsp;

Your Love is your Freedom

Denial and free will are two of the main reasons Allah tests us. Denial is usually the thing that sets us back—from learning, from progressing, or even just from starting. It comes in many forms, and we often find ways to keep entertaining it without even realizing. It’s much easier to be negative than it is to stay positive, which is why patience takes time. It’s something we have to learn and train ourselves in—internally—before we can handle it outwardly.But what’s important to remember is that Allah already instills the truth within us. It’s centered deep at our core, where our decisions, behavior, and actions come from. It’s just on us to balance out the denial, the doubts, and the vague thoughts that cloud that inner core and block our ability to reason intuitively.This is very similar to how we carry our morals and values. We protect them, and we often act on them right away in decision making. But when it comes to that deeper intuition—the one connected to Allah—it takes time to fully recognize and trust it. That’s because intention isn’t a one-time, set-in-stone decision. It shifts. We shift. Our circumstances change, our hearts change, and with that, our intentions need constant checking. That’s why Allah asks us to practice patience—not just with the world, but with ourselves. It’s a way to measure how consistent and sincere we are with what we claim to intend.So, to simplify the denial we experience in matters of faith, we have to first be willing to do the actual work required to meet the level of sincerity and presence it takes to even begin validating—or rejecting—what we’re being shown. Intention is everything. Without it, we’re not fully good, and we’re not fully bad—we’re just stuck somewhere in the middle, unable to move forward.And Allah already tells us that we have limited knowledge of the unseen. That reminder isn’t to belittle us—it’s to teach us that His plan is protection. His prescription is exactly what we need to move through life in a way that protects the soul, the heart, and the mind.

Free Will and Patience: The Measure of Our Intentions

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