Reading this verse made me reflect on how people misuse power and authority. In government, workplaces, families—everywhere—we see individuals abusing the small authority Allah has given them. Men, in particular, often assert their dominance in households and society, making others feel inferior.

I used to be like that too—thinking that as the eldest sibling, I had the right to exercise control and authority over my family. But as I grew, I realized that my true role is not to control, but to uphold and support my family. One day, my parents will no longer be here, and I will have to step up—not as a ruler, but as a protector within Islamic boundaries.

This verse reminds me that authority is a trust, not a privilege. Allah is the only true ruler, and any power we have is a temporary test. The way we treat others today will be questioned on the Day when only Allah holds absolute authority.

Also, this makes me reflect on how Qur’an education is approached in schools. Many of us studied it as a subject—memorizing verses just to pass exams. But the Qur'an is not just a school subject—it is a way of life, a manual for existence. Schools should teach it in a way that emphasizes its relevance to daily life, not just as another academic subject.

Understanding the Qur’an with its meaning is an indescribable experience. It hits differently when you realize that every verse speaks directly to our lives, struggles, and responsibilities. The Qur’an should shape our character, decisions, and purpose—not just our grades.

This verse is a powerful reminder to remain humble, responsible, and mindful of our actions because, ultimately, all authority belongs to Allah alone.

Jazaak Allah khair for this beautiful reflection.

[Was reading surat Mariam and remembered this essay that I wrote more than 11 years ago entitled 'Be'. I've changed how some words are written but left it otherwise intact. Sharing it here as I guess it is one of my earliest reflections. Be warned it's quite wordy (1,600 words!), but otherwise enjoy and let me know what you think]

Have you ever noticed that many of our actions are not discrete? You don’t just do or not do them. There are degrees to some actions, and each degree is usually described by a different verb. You could be hearing something, but not listening to it. You could be seeing something, but not looking at it. But you are essentially doing the same action. In the same vain, you can understand something, but not comprehend it.

In the year 2008, I experienced this difference first-hand. I came to comprehend something that I have known and understood for as long as I can remember.

Since I was a child, I was taught about fate. That everything that happens is preordained by Allah. It was a simple concept to understand. So, everything only happens if and when Allah wants it to happen, right? Okay, I get it! I was taught about how Allah saved Prophet Ibraham (pbuh) when his townsmen threw him into the fire to burn. Allah only told the fire to 'Be cold and safe on Ibraham' and so it became. Then Ibraham went out of the flame unharmed. I was taught about how Mariam reacted when the angel told her that she will bear a child 'how can I bear a child when no one had touched me?!' and the angel replied that if Allah wants it to be so, simply it so becomes. No matter how difficult or impossible it may seem to you. Mariam bore and gave birth to Jesus, without any person touching her. I was taught to believe in fate and accept whatever it may bring.

It was all simple to understand, but did understanding it and believing in it really make a difference to me? Did it touch my life and affect how I perceive things? Not until the year 2008. That was when I fully comprehended it.

In 2008, I had two experiences that taught me exactly what fate means.

Once, in an early weekend morning, around 7:30 am, I was driving to meet my friends in a park to jog. I was not certain where the place was. I had to make a U-turn at one of the big circles along the Medical City Street in Amman. This much I knew, but I did not know which circle it was. So I was looking left before every circle, just before I go into the tunnel beneath it, to see if I reached the park and whether this is where I have to turn or not. 

It was 7:30 on a weekend and there were barely any other cars on the street. So, I drove full-speed and as I approached one of the tunnels, I looked continuously to the left to search for the park’s entrance. When I was just at the entrance of the tunnel and the street slopped downwards, I returned my eyes towards the street and found a pick-up stopped right in the middle of the tunnel’s entrance. By the time I saw it, I was just a few meters away from it. At that moment, I had one hand on the top of the steering wheel (at 12 o’clock). Without panicking or thinking, in one sweeping motion, I tilted the wheel a few inches to the left, dodged the pick-up and returned the wheel a few inches back to its normal position. I looked back and thought what the heck is this idiot doing stopping in the middle of the tunnel’s entrance? Certainly not what I was expecting! 

A moment later, when it was over, I started to wonder: Why am I calm? Why didn’t I panic? Why isn’t my heart pounding hard? How did I turn the wheel at such high speed without the car losing control and hitting the tunnel walls? How did I go out of this so easily? How am I still alive and unhurt? How stupid can I be to look elsewhere when driving full speed into a tunnel? Except for the last question (answer: very, very stupid apparently), I did not understand all that, but I knew one thing for certain: Skill was not involved here. I know my driving skills and reaction speed, and if you ever rode with me, you know my driving skills very well. The only explanation I could think of was that Allah did not want this potentially horrible and tragic accident to happen. Allah did not want me to get hurt or die in that moment. 

This was when I realized that no matter how unaware and unprepared for a difficult situation I am, no matter how taken by surprise by that situation I am, that if Allah wants it to pass through, I will go by unaffected.

In March 2008, on the day of the Japanese speech contest, I was waiting for my turn and preparing to take the first prize. I had written and revised my speech into final form with my teacher. I had something meaningful to say and I felt strongly about it. I was the only participant to memorize my speech. I even practiced gestures to do while I give my speech. I was the only participant wearing a suit. In short, I was fully prepared. I worked very hard and the Japanese teachers and my friends can tell you that, heck, even my colleagues at work can tell you that I worked hard for the contest. I had experience; I already participated many times and was mostly over my stage fright. I knew what made every participant before me win and I used that knowledge the best way I could. Everything was set in place for me to get the first place.. Or if something somehow went wrong, to get second or third place even. In other words, I worked much harder than any past speech contest, and expected to get a higher ranking.

And then the speech contest started. And then my turn was next. No problem I told my excited self. Been there, done that, right? Last year I faired well and made some fans even. When it was my turn, I looked at the crowd in preparation for my speech, and the unexpected happens: my heart starts pounding hard. Why?! I didn’t feel scared of the crowd! Why?! Last year, it didn’t happen, this year it shouldn’t! I did not understand; it was almost bewildering, but it was my turn and I had to do it. Calm down, take a breath. My heart is still pounding. I went behind the stand, introduced myself and started talking. I did everything, talking without a paper, tone changes, looking around, gesturing. Things went almost as I had planned them to except for a few things. My heart was beating hard and the moment I started my speech, I just wanted to finish and leave the stand. My talking speed was a little fast. Even though I looked at people around me, unlike last year, I could not make eye contact, as if things were blurry or I was looking right over people’s eyes. In the conclusion, I hesitated a few of times.

Then it was time for the verdict. While the judges were deciding the winners, everybody else went outside the contest hall for a break. I got a few handshakes and encouraging words. Then the time came to announce the winners and we all gathered and were seated inside again. The speech section announcements started. Special prize: not me. Makes sense, I want to be first. Third prize: not me. More excitement, it is close! Second place would be nice too. Second prize: not me! My friend who sat behind me put his hand on my back to push me to get the prize, but I was a little apprehensive. Could it be me? Even though I was tense? It could, because of all the preparation and hard work. It could be! But I did not get the first prize. I did not achieve anything. I even got worse ranking than last year. I got less than 4th place. 

Why?! I played by the book. According to the speech guidelines, I get points for speech originality and my speech was original. I get points for not making mistakes, and I only hesitated at the end. I get points for not looking at the paper, and I didn’t even put the paper in front of me. Why did my heart start beating hard? Why become tense? Why be more so than last year despite being better prepared and having more experience? Things did not add up. The only explanation I could think of was that Allah did not want me to get first place or improve my results. Allah did not want me to win at that moment.

This was when I realized that no matter how well I plan ahead and how prepared I am, no matter how hard I work and how I do things correctly, that if Allah does not want it to pass, I will not achieve what I set out far.

In the first time, I made a big mistake and was completely unprepared and in the second time, I thought well, worked hard and was very well prepared. In both times, Allah did not want the logical consequences to pass as one would expect. It was as if the rules of cause and effect were temporarily suspended. 

I see… 

If Allah wants something to 'be' it 'becomes', if He does not want it to be, it does not become.

Now, I comprehend the meaning of fate.

Im really speechless right now idk what to say but definitely this is a golden reminder... like wow its crazy wallah ! Like right now i had a flash back of everything is going on in my life and this gave me ease i guess ? Telling me relax khalas everything Allah wants it to happen will happen no matter how hard u think about it or try to make it happen . 

These verses were powerful as they describe the state of some who turn back to disbelief after being guided, amidst still having friends who try to call them back to guidance. It's such a vivid description of a state of confusion and a warning that one may fall back into disbelief, may we be protected from this. 

Verse 72 provides a remedy to this state of confusion - to not leave the prayer, to keep that connection with Allah, even amidst struggle, doubt, and uncertainty and to be mindful of Him and our return to Him. 

And verse 73 goes on to reminds us that God created the heavens and earth in truth and His command is truth. When one is confused, they are looking for truth, for certainty, for reassurance and I felt verse 73 do just that. The verse ends us by reminding us Allah is the Knower of all - seen or unseen, He knows the uncertainties the heart may hold, He knows  about the fear, the sadness, the grief, and He reassures us He is the All-Wise, All-Aware, which once again are reassuring attributes for anyone experiencing confusion and uncertainty. 

His plan will not fail you because He is The Most Wise. Your trials are not unknown to The All-Knowing and All-Aware, He knows, He sees you and He will hold you through it.

JazakAllhu khair for this reflection. I needed this today alhamdulilah