Bismillah

When you hear the phrase "it befell him," what comes to mind first—a blessing or a hardship?

Allah ﷻ says:

"Whatever good befalls you is from Allah..." (4:79)

This life is a test. Not every gift is a favor, and not every hardship is a punishment.

Sometimes what glitters in your hands slowly leads you away from Allah, while the weight upon your shoulders becomes the very thing that draws you closer to Him.

The comfort you desired may be your trial, and the difficulty you feared may be your salvation.

Allah knows, while we do not. (2:216)

"The comfort you desired may be your trial, and the difficulty you feared may be your salvation."

SubhaanAllaah! This is so true. 
May Allah help us to see the reality of the matter and then act rightly. 🍀

While I was dressing my younger brother, who has cerebral palsy, he slipped slightly off the bed and panicked, thinking he was going to fall. In his fear, he shouted, 'Are you trying to kill me?' But as soon as I helped him back and he felt safe, he said, 'Thank you for saving my life.'

When I smiled and said, 'You’re welcome,' he replied, 'I wasn’t saying it to you — I was saying it to Allah Ji.'

That moment stayed with me. His instinct was pure — he associated harm with me and safety with Allah, even though I was the means of both. SubhanAllah, it was an unfiltered recognition that everything good comes directly from Allah, and that the means are merely vessels He uses.

I realised how often we reverse this. When something painful happens, we comfort ourselves by saying, 'It’s Qadr Allah,' but deep down we associate the hurt with Him. And when something good happens, we say, 'Alhamdulillah,' yet still feel a quiet pride, as though our success came from our own doing.

My brother, in his simplicity, stripped away that illusion — no filter, no ego, just pure fitrah. He reminded me of the truth:

'Whatever good befalls you is from Allah, and whatever evil befalls you is from yourself.'
(Surah An-Nisa, 4:79)

May Allah grant us hearts as pure and reliant upon Him as his. 🤍

JazakAllahu khayran for your kind words and duas. May Allah make us among those who benefit from His reminders and draw nearer to Him through the Qur’an.

The first time you meet someone, you may define them by how they look. But over time, what truly defines them is their interaction with you. Even if someone is strikingly handsome, if his attitude is poor, no beauty can cover up his behavior.

Think of courtship: we feel as though we love the person with all our heart, even to the point of sacrifice. Yet after marriage, when daily interaction reveals the reality of their character, we learn that appearances fade but actions remain.

The Qur’an emphasizes this truth, that we are not defined by outward ties or forms, but by our deeds. When Prophet Nūḥ (AS) pleaded for his son, Allah replied:

'O Nūḥ, indeed he is not of your family; indeed, he is [one whose] work was other than righteous.'
(Qur’an 11:46)

This powerful statement shifts the measure of identity from bloodline to action: we are our deeds.

Now, consider how the prophets introduced Allah as Rabb al-‘Ālamīn. The word Rabb, in its literal sense, means the nurturer, sustainer, and caretaker, the One who brings something from stage to stage until it reaches completion. Contextually, it refers to Allah as the One who governs all affairs, providing guidance, sustenance, protection, and correction.

For Prophet Ibrāhīm (AS), Allah as Rabb was not an abstract concept but the One he experienced in his life:

'It is He who feeds me and gives me drink. And when I am sick, it is He who cures me.'
(Qur’an 26:79–80)

For Prophet Mūsā (AS), when Pharaoh asked, 'Who is your Lord (Rabb)?', his answer defined Rabb as the origin and guide of all creation:

'Our Lord is He who gave everything its form and then guided it.'
(Qur’an 20:50)

Allah Himself clarifies this relationship with His servants:

'Whatever good happens to you is from Allah, and whatever evil befalls you is from yourself.'
(Qur’an 4:79)

This means every goodness you encounter, whether food, health, knowledge, or the love of your parents—is a direct gift from your Rabb, the One nurturing you at every moment. Even the kindness of a parent is nothing but Allah’s mercy flowing through the vehicle of parenthood.

When you consciously associate every good with Allah, your bond with Him deepens. Then, whenever you hear the word Rabb! whether consciously or subconsciously—your heart recalls all these layers of goodness and mercy. This is how certainty grows: you begin to worship Allah as if you see Him, because you are constantly interacting with His nurturing presence.

At this level, every time you read the Qur’an and hear a prophet invoking Allah as Rabb, it resonates deeply. Their testimony aligns with your lived experience, strengthening your resolve to worship Him.

In our last reflection, we saw how Prophet Zakariyyā (AS) called upon his Rabb—his prayer whispered in secrecy, filled with humility and indebtedness. Despite his weakness and old age, he still turned to Allah, for he had no one else to call but his Rabb (Qur’an 19:4).

May the Rabb, the Nurturer and Sustainer, heal our hearts from every illness and fill them with His light, mercy, and certainty

When I came across this verse in the Qur’an, I stopped reading it for a while.
'finally, beat them (lightly)' (4:34)

At the time, I had recently taken my shahadah in July 2023. And although I had read the Qur’an once before while still researching Islam, this time was different. Just a month before becoming Muslim, I had experienced a DV incident that left me with panic attacks and flashbacks. So when I read this ayah, this time it felt too close to home and I wasn’t ready to face it.

This verse, along with the one that says:
'Whatever good befalls you is from Allah, but whatever bad happens to you is from your own self.' (4:79)
nearly sent me spiraling. 
I couldn’t help but feel like it was all my fault. 
That I brought it upon myself. 
That maybe I could’ve stopped it.

But alhamdulillah, I didn’t stop reading the Qur’an altogether. Just for a couple of weeks until I read and watched every tafsir I could find. Then I started reading every translation. 
I begged Allah ﷻ for clarity, because I knew I didn’t understand.
So I asked Him to teach me. To explain it to me.

I knew I couldn’t just read it at face value. I needed to understand because I just wanted to feel like myself again.

One of my hobbies is calligraphy. But after what happened, I couldn’t do it anymore. 
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My nervous system was a wreck. My cortisol levels were so high that I developed hypothyroidism.

So I searched for answers. And others came to me.

I started learning about the rights of women in Islam. Our roles. Our value. Our dignity. 
I learned what a healthy relationship is actually supposed to look like and what the role of a man is meant to be.

I also began to learn more about Allah ﷻ Himself. Since I was just starting to build my relationship with Him. I grew up Baptist Christian, so I didn’t truly know Him.

'O mankind! What has deceived you concerning your Lord, the Most Generous?' (82:6)

I started including Him in my emotional regulation. I stopped journaling just to vent, and started talking to Him instead. And Al-Mujeeb responded. Even to the little things I told Him.

Then Allah ﷻ started to mend what felt permanently broken. 
Learning about His love for women, mothers, and daughters helped to release the pain I felt when I read that verse.

Nearly six months after becoming Muslim, Allah ﷻ allowed me to invest my heart fully into Islam. I started using the Qur’an to heal because I figured since it’s the only thing that’s 100% true, it’s the only thing that would work. 

'Whoever is given the Qur’an and thinks that someone else has been given something better than what he has been given has belittled what Allah has exalted.'
—Prophet Mohammad ﷺ  (Reported by al-Hakim in al-Mustadrak 1/561)

At the time, I didn’t know that what I was doing had a name: tazkiyah.

Healing the heart. 
Purifying the soul. 
Letting the Qur’an wash over the wounds no one else could see.

Sometimes, when you’ve been oppressed, you begin to internalize it. 
You blame yourself. 
You take on a victim identity and start living from that place.

But Allah says:
'And We have made some of you a trial for others—will you have patience?' (25:20)

They were a test for you. 
And you were a test for them. 
What happened to you wasn’t a reflection of your worth. It was a reflection of someone else failing their test. And Allah ﷻ will compensate your patience and defend your rights. 

'Indeed, Allah defends those who believe.' (22:38)

Alhamdulillah, my panic attacks and flashbacks are gone. 
My nervous system is regulated. 
My heart is at peace. 
I have found safety with Allah ﷻ. 
My thyroid is improving now that my stress levels are low. 
And my hands no longer shake so I’ve returned to calligraphy.

I’m incredibly grateful that I didn’t stop reading the Qur’an entirely, subhanallah.
Grateful that I didn’t turn away from the truth, even when it hurt. Even when I didn’t understand.
Grateful that I didn’t stop making salat and dua. 
Grateful that I didn’t return to heedlessness and disbelief. 
Grateful that Allah ﷻ is always there because we always need Him. 
'They do not encompass anything of His knowledge except what He wills.' (2:255)

If you keep walking toward Allah ﷻ even while trembling, He will guide your heart through the confusion and fear.

All knowledge belongs to Him. And He knows what we do not.

No. The translation means that the you do good for yourself and others but be careful because we're not bad to ourselves It's usually the people that are bad to us and we can't blame ourselves for other people's evil that happens to us.

These 2 ayaats show that we have to believe  in predestination and free will at the same time: 'the good and the bad comes from God'(predestination) vs 'the bad comes from yourself' (free will).