By Ahmed Zaafran

Certainty. It is what we seek as humans to offset the inconsistencies of our lives. Fortunately, when we experience anxiety due to the unknowns that occupy our minds and hearts, we have the necessary tool, the Qur’an, to navigate us in the direction of providence. Nearly 10 years ago, I began medical school in Grenada, the West Indies. I was not sure what I wanted to do with my life. I did not know what direction my life would go; whether I could complete my studies, whether I was ready for marriage, or whether my relationship with Allah, subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), was something I was content with.

One of my favorite spots in Grenada was right outside the anatomy lab. The lab sits atop a cliff overlooking the Caribbean Sea, and I would stand there in awe, taking in the seemingly endless ocean as it met the horizon. The sea was characteristically still but its endless stretch into the horizon embodied the limitations of our senses. I could hear the waves beat the shore in a gentle, rhythmic drum.

Prophet Abraham’s (as) Encounter

Reflecting on Grenada’s ocean waves reminded me of a passage in the Qu’ran where the Prophet Abraham, alayhi as-salaam (peace upon him), is reflecting upon God’s (swt) signs, such as the sun, the moon, and the stars. For him, the celestial structures gave him peace in a world that couldn’t always be understood; one riddled with people who didn’t share his values, primarily monotheism:

“And thus did We show Abraham the realm of the heavens and the earth that he would be among the certain. So when the night covered him [with darkness], he saw a star. He said, “This is my lord.” But when it set, he said, “I like not those that disappear.” And when he saw the moon rising, he said, “This is my lord.” But when it set, he said, “Unless my Lord guides me, I will surely be among the people gone astray.” And when he saw the sun rising, he said, “This is my lord; this is greater.” But when it set, he said, “O my people, indeed I am free from what you associate with Allah. Indeed, I have turned my face toward He who created the heavens and the earth, inclining toward truth, and I am not of those who associate others with Allah.” And his people argued with him. He said, “Do you argue with me concerning Allah while He has guided me? And I fear not what you associate with Him [and will not be harmed] unless my Lord should will something. My Lord encompasses all things in knowledge; then will you not remember?” (Qur’an, 6:75-80)

Abraham (as) used God’s (swt) signs to navigate through the questions of his existence. He utilized the tools of the seen world as a portal into understanding the celestial realm and directed his questioning as a guide towards understanding the divine. God (swt) graced him with intuitive inquisitive thought; and He answered him in ways that he could understand. These signs exist for us well. They may be used as a spiritual compass so long as we realize that the path is ultimately to God (swt).

However, in a full reversal of perception, it didn’t take too long for those gentle waves to turn into ferocious towers of water. I didn’t expect what happened during that first year on the island.

Having Faith in Allah’s (swt) Signs

It was Autumn 2004. We were just beginning our medical studies, and we were completely engrossed in our work. Word came that a hurricane was brewing in the Caribbean Sea, but the likelihood of it hitting Grenada was slim to none. We did not pay much attention to the warning and went about our routine; studying followed by more studying. Later that evening, we were told that the next day’s classes would be canceled given the slight chance the hurricane would take a turn for Grenada. We took the rare opportunity to put down our books, hunker down in our dorms, and enjoy the night hanging out.

By early morning, we turned on the television and received a rude awakening. Ivan had changed course and his eye was heading for the center of Grenada.

Given the unexpected turn of events, my friend Taha and I drove over to a spot where we could grasp the power of what was happening. Waves were smashing into the coast ferociously, and the locals were busy protecting their windows with wooden panels. Feeling overwhelmed and knowing that we were in the midst of God’s (swt) power, we did what felt natural. We stayed right where we were, and we prayed.

Once the hurricane struck, we spent an entire night challenged by window-shattering wind, sheets of rainfall, and a home flooded to our knees with water. We all felt an ominous vulnerability that night. When would someone come to help us? Did we have enough food to last more than a week? Could we protect ourselves from imminent danger? It is when you are alone in an uncertain world that you realize only God (swt) is the Comforter. Praise God (swt), we worked together to endure the night and the few days following, and we established a community to help ourselves and local residents recover from the storm.

Seeing Faith in the Stars

One of the main unexpected blessings that took place following the hurricane was the lack of light pollution. The entire island lost its power in the aftermath of the hurricane. I remember going down to the beach situated near our dorms the night before our departure from the island. The sand was characteristically black and silky, a far cry from the sandy beaches I was accustomed to back home. My friends and I had started a campfire, and we took time to reflect upon the days and nights we had gone through since the hurricane. As I lay down on the sand, without the artificial bulbs veiling the heavens, I was able to visualize something entirely unique and wondrous.

The sky above was a back-lit canopy of red, white, purple, and blue. Stars were clustered into perfected formations; branches extending from the trunk of the universe pushing the boundaries of what I knew existed. Feeling entirely vulnerable and insignificant within God’s (swt) realm, I remembered an often-cited verse from Surat Noor in the Qur’an:

Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The example of His light is like a niche within which is a lamp, the lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a pearly [white] star lit from [the oil of] a blessed olive tree, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow even if untouched by fire. Light upon light. Allah guides to His light whom He wills. And Allah presents examples for the people, and Allah is Knowing of all things.  (Qur’an, 24:35)

I came to the realization that we are not so different than Abraham (as) in our quest. We all yearn for certainty, but that only comes to those who actively seek it. Muslims around the world are feeling uncertain and vulnerable, particularly at a time when the violent actions of others are heavily portrayed as the norm. But we don’t have to despair. We should look to God (swt) and His signs as our bearing point. We must continue on our journey, leading with good character and positive energy. We must be honest with our weaknesses and ourselves both individually and collectively. Only then can we improve.

Savoring that last night on the island, enamored by the stillness of the ocean, and the universe glistening above, l laid on the beach, and I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I felt some certainty in an uncertain world.

You begin by calling the coast guard. No reply. You try again to redirect the boat. No use. You look for the lifeboat. It’s gone. You reach for a life jacket. Torn. Finally after you’ve exhausted every means, you turn your face upward.

And ask God.

But there’s something completely unique about this moment. At this instant, you experience something you otherwise could only theorize about: true tawheed. Oneness. See, on shore, you may have called on God. But you called on Him along with so many others. You may have depended on God. But you depended on Him along with so many other handholds. But for this singular moment, everything else is closed. Everything. There is nothing left to call on. Nothing left to depend on. But Him.

And that’s the point.

Do you ever wonder why when you’re most in need, every door you seek of the creation remains closed? You knock on one, but it’s slammed shut. So you go to another. It’s also shut. You go from door to door, knocking, pounding on each one, but nothing opens. And even those doors you had once depended on, suddenly shut. Why? Why does that happen?

See, we humans have certain qualities which God knows well. We are constantly in a state of need. We are weak. But, we are also hasty and impatient. When we are in trouble, we will be pushed to seek assistance. And that’s the design. Why would we seek shelter if it’s sunny and the weather is nice? When does one seek refuge? It is when the storm hits. So Allah subahanahu wa ta`ala (exlated is He) sends the storm; He makes the need through a created situation, so that we will be driven to seek shelter.

But when we do seek assistance, because of our impatience, we seek it in what is near and what seems easy. We seek it in what we can see and hear and touch. We look for shortcuts. We seek help in the creation, including our own selves. We look for help in what seems closest. And isn’t that exactly what dunya (wordly life) is? What seems near. The word ‘dunya’ itself means ‘that which is lower’. Dunya is what seems closest. But, this is only an illusion.

There is something closer.

Think for a moment about what’s nearest to us. If asked this question, many would say it is the heart and the self that are nearest. But, Allah (swt) says:

“It was We Who created man, and We know what dark suggestions his nafs (self) makes to him: for We are nearer to him than (his) jugular vein,” (Qur’an 50:16).

In this verse, Allah (swt) begins by showing us that He knows our struggles. There is comfort in knowing that someone sees our struggles. He knows what our own self calls us to. But He is closer. He is closer than our own self and what it calls for.  He is closer than our jugular vein. And why the jugular? What is striking about this part of us? The jugular vein is the most important vein that brings blood to the heart. If severed, we die almost immediately. It is literally our lifeline. But Allah (swt) is closer. Allah (swt) is closer than our own life, than our own Self, than our own nafs. And He is closer than the most important pathway to our heart.

In another verse, Allah (swt) says:

“O ye who believe! give your response to Allah and His Messenger, when He calleth you to that which will give you life; and know that Allah cometh in between a man and his heart, and that it is He to Whom ye shall (all) be gathered,” (Qur’an 8:24).

Allah (swt) knows we have a nafs. Allah knows we have a heart. Allah knows that these things drive us. But Allah tells us that He is closer to us than even these. So when we reach for other than Him, we are not only reaching for what is weaker, we are also reaching past what is closer, for what is further and more distant. Subhan Allah (Glory be to God).

So since this is our nature, as Allah (swt) knows best, He protects and redirects us by keeping all other doors of refuge closed during the storm. He knows that behind each false door is a drop. And if we enter it, we will fall. In His mercy, He keeps those false doors closed.

In His mercy, He sent the storm itself to make us seek Him. And then knowing that we’re likely to get the wrong answer, He gives us a multiple choice exam with only one option to choose from: the correct answer.  The hardship itself is ease.  By taking away all other handholds, all other multiple choice options, He has made the test simple.

It’s never easy to stand when the storm hits. And that’s exactly the point. By sending the wind, He brings us to our knees: the perfect position to pray.