Photo: Robert S. Digby

There is something striking about the life of Yusuf `alyahi as-salaam (peace be upon him). Every time it seems something good is happening to him, it is taken away or something messes it up. Think about it.

He tells his father about his amazing dream, and his father informs him that it is something good, and that he is a prophet. Then his brothers throw him in the well.

While he is in the well, waiting to be rescued, some passersby go to collect water, and instead they find him. AlhamdulilLah (praise be to God)! He is saved! But wait… they sell him at a market. He becomes a slave.

The minister who buys him treats him pretty well, though. He is still a slave, but it could be a lot worse. He is honored in the house of the minister. He grows up, and things seem stable at least. Then the wife of the minister tries to seduce him, and she will not desist either.

Even though he did nothing wrong, he prefers prison than to give in. Two prisoners enter after him. He interprets their dreams, and he knows that one of them will be released. He tells him, “Mention me to your master.” Things are looking up. Perhaps he will be released soon. But instead, we are told, “But Satan made him forget the mention [to] his master, and Joseph remained in prison several years.” (Qur’an, 12:42)

Finally though, we come full circle. The king has a strange dream that no one understands. And so the released prisoner, now working as a servant to the king, remembers Yusuf. Yusuf is released and asked to interpret the dream. It is the perfect time, because when he interprets the king’s dream, the king is so impressed with him that he makes him minister over the food rations. Everyone knows he is innocent. Yusuf saves the land from famine. He is reunited with his family.

What is remarkable is what he says at the end, “Indeed, my Lord is Subtle in what He wills. Indeed, it is He who is the Knowing, the Wise.” (Qur’an, 12:100) Yusuf (as) understood: none of this was a coincidence.

Yusuf (as) probably had no idea at the time why his own brothers threw him in a well, and no idea that he would become a minister through that. But he never said, “Why me? Allah, why did you let this happen? I am a good kid!” He was not bitter about what he was given. While most people would see the hardship, he only saw God.

Allah subhanahu 
wa
ta`ala (exalted is He) knew why those things happened and that there was wisdom in every single thing. We may not know, but Allah (swt) is subtle in how He sends His signs, and how He makes things work. You might think you are in the worst possible place at this point in your life, but this could be the first step to getting somewhere amazing. You just cannot see it yet.

Yusuf’s story is an example of things happening to us that are completely outside of our control. All of us have that: there are things that just happen that we cannot comprehend; disappointment after disappointment; or hope in people that let you down.

Yet you will not be asked about what you had no control over—but you will most certainly be asked over those things you did have control over.  Throughout the story, we hear testimony to Yusuf’s (as) character. The people in prison say to him, “We see you to be of those who do good.” He was not an angry person, even in prison, bitter at the world for his perceived misfortune. He did not make excuses for himself when the minister’s beautiful wife tried to seduce him. He did good wherever he found himself, and prevented himself from doing bad. Because while he was separated from his loved ones, he was never separated from Allah. And so Allah (swt) gave him moments of relief at every stage.

Be like Yusuf (as), and be recognized as being of those who do good: If you make a mistake, apologize, and fix it if you can. If you cannot, then let it go, and pray for the person you hurt. If your situation calls for patience, then have beautiful patience like his father Ya’coob (as), who had nothing to do but wait when he lost his sons. If it calls for striving, then do that. Give it your all, until you cannot think of anything else to do. But do not make excuses for yourself.

And if you can see past the hardship, then you will see the opportunity, just like Yusuf (as) when he interpreted the dream of the two prisoners. And we now know what that led to.

By Yacoob Manjoo

I like rooftops because they are freedom.

As I write this, I’m seated on one.
No ordinary one, mind you;
but one in a city of immense peace;
on top of a building so blessed that only one other is greater.

Many people aren’t aware of rooftops.
They live their lives down below,
never thinking of how serene and peaceful the world above is.

It’s the same in this place:
hundreds of thousands come to this city,
to this building,
yet only a fraction venture up to this rooftop.

Down below, the crowds swell—
with new faces each and every day,
from places far and wide,
each with a culture,
a nationality,
a family,
a unique life story.

We meet each other—
all speaking different languages,
sometimes unable to communicate
other than in sign language—
yet our greeting is the same;
a universal greeting of peace—
taught to us by the Messenger of peace,
who established this
our community,
in this very place
some fourteen centuries ago.

He would be proud
to see his nation gathered here today—
such variety in colour, speech, and manner—
all committed to one way of life.

All here to visit him,
and honour his resting place—
the ground where he,
and the giants of his generation,
strove to build a society
based on justice,
peace,
and universal goodness—
recognised by every single soul—
whether they know it or not.

They walked this very earth
by day and night,
in wartime and during peace,
hardship and times of ease;
knowing that their time here was only temporary—
a short period of tests—
the results of which might determine
their home in the eternal realm.

And some were assured of their success;
yet still they struggled,
still they strove,
still they feared
that they weren’t living up to the lives expected of them.

Yet that generation
was the best of people raised up for mankind.

They enjoined what was good,
and forbade what was evil;
and,
they believed in One God.

But
our generation today
instead succumbs
to the cultural pollution
of nations that do not truly believe in their Creator.
For if they did,
their lives would reflect more justice,
God-consciousness,
and eagerness

to fulfil their responsibilities
as stewards of this Earth.

Yet in this blessed place,
this generation—
those who come to visit—
witnesses the way life should be.

We feel the tranquillity
of the way of life
we call our own.

We experience it first hand—
in ways we could never experience back home.

We feel rejuvenated
by this environment—
re-affirming our connection to our Creator,
the Owner of Peace,
the Master of all things—
both worldly and beyond human comprehension.

Grown men break down in tears—
begging their Lord for forgiveness,
and supplicating for all that they need in their lives,
and all that they desire in their existence.

Desperate pleas
with such sincerity—
both in private
and where others see them—
without inhibition,
for in those moments,
nobody else matters:
it’s just them and their Lord.

And so
this City of Peace
purifies the souls that visit;
washing away years,
decades,
and lifetimes of mistakes—
and giving hope that maybe,
just maybe,
when our journeys take us back home,
we’ll recapture the magic we felt here,
and live lives of peace, justice, and submission
to the One we owe everything to.