Rain falls steadily outside. A loud clap of thunder shakes me from my slumber. Subhan’Allah, my husband’s reassuring arms gather me close to him. My heart pounds in my ears and my first thought is our son – has the thunder disturbed his sleep? I stand over him, he sleeps peacefully – blissfully unaware of the storm… or perhaps subtly aware but still undisturbed. I settle back against the pillows but prayer beckons to me.
How beautiful and tranquil the night is. The smell of the rain is magical, the blackness of the night sky is brought to life with bright flashes of light – Subhan’Allah, what a magnificent display. I stand in prayer, Qiyaam-al-Layl, and I pour my heart out to Him who owns it. My tears come in a steady stream, almost as if trying to match the pace of the rain. I reflect on what I know about this time – the last part of the night, that Allah (SWT) descends from His “Arsh to the lowest Heaven, and says: “Who will call upon Me, that I may answer Him? Who will ask of Me, that I may give him? Who will seek My forgiveness, that I may forgive him?” (Bukhari and Muslim). I feel Allah’s presence. I know He is hearing my supplications.
I lament the many, many nights I have slept soundly and missed out on this special time. Yet I am ever hopeful in His Mercy.
The night is so quiet. I can hear the soft baby breaths of my sleeping son, and the intermittent snoring of my husband. I whisper supplications of gratitude for them. My husband – my protector and my best friend, and our son – my every dream come true, Alhamdulillah. My heart is happy. This is my time with my Creator. My mind is clear, my thoughts are focused and I attempt to make my Dua’as as succinct and concise as I possibly can.
Since the birth of my son nearly two years ago, I have felt that the majority of my time is consumed with raising him, teaching him, and keeping my home, and while that in itself serves as an act of ‘Ibaadah, I am regretful of not praying as much, and in the manner I would have liked to. But I know that Allah (SWT) knows my heart, and I know that His promise is always, always true – He does not place upon us burdens greater than we are capable of carrying. I know that He hears me and He understands my plight.
My hands are raised in Du’a, my heart beseeching Him, my lips begging for His Mercy and Favour upon me. I am at peace. “(There is) a Word: “Peace! From a Lord Most Merciful.” (Surah Ya-sin: 58) Allahu Akbar!
I complete my prayers and it feels as though a new wave of energy has washed over me. The rain still falls, softer now… washing the dust and dirt from the earth, each drop, a quenching drink to its dry lips. This is Allah’s Mercy – nourishing our souls, nurturing and sustaining us. Subhana Rabbi-al A’ala! My nightlight flickers and I am submerged in total darkness. The power has gone. How symbolic, I think to myself. My life, like this light, can be extinguished in an instant, without any prior warning or notification. Again I raise my hands, and I pray, “Oh my Lord, let me die not but in a state of Imaan and let me not return to You except in a manner that is pleasing to You.”
I smile and I am thankful for this beautiful gift of Tahajjud.
Rabbana wata-qabbal du’a. “O my Lord! Accept my dua’as.” (Surah Ibrahim: 40)
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