islamicthinking:

Why do we read Quran, if we can’t understand a single Arabic word? This is a beautiful story:
 
An old American Muslim lived on a farm in the mountains of eastern Kentucky with his young grandson. Each morning Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading his Quran. His grandson wanted to be just like him and tried to imitate him in every way he could.

One day the grandson asked, “Grandpa! I try to read the Quran just like you but I don’t understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Qur’an do?”

The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and replied, “Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water.”

The boy did as he was told, but all the water leaked out before he got back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, “You’ll have to move a little faster next time,” and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again. This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket instead.

The old man said, “I don’t want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You’re just not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again.

At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got back to the house. The boy again dipped the basket into river and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See Grandpa, it’s useless!”

“So you think it is useless?” The old man said, “Look at the basket.”
The boy looked at the basket and for the first time realized that the basket was different. It had been transformed from a dirty old coal basket and was now clean, inside and out.

“Son, that’s what happens when you read the Qur’an. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, you will be changed, inside and out. That is the work of Allah in our lives.”

destinationjannah:

“So don’t give up. Don’t give in to that feeling that tells you to do the bare minimum. Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) would not create you to be a useless addition to this world.

You can be something special—something special to Him—if you don’t give up. If you take that step.

Why are we reminded by the Prophet ﷺ in so many sayings that Allah (swt) accepts the servant who returns?

Why are we told when we come one step closer to Allah (swt), He comes to us at speed?

It is to remind us that Allah (swt) wants us to reach our potential, to take that first step despite the fact that the first step might be the hardest.” -Jinan Bastaki

rahsia saya hensem adalah saya stay forever alone.

“And Satan will say when the matter has been concluded….But I had no authority over you except that I invited you, and you responded to me. So do not blame me; but blame yourselves.” [14:22]

Sometimes we go on a spree, blaming Shaitan for everything- that he MADE you curse, that he MADE you yell at your parents, or he MADE you lie. But remember, Shaitan can only whisper. It is YOU that listens. It is YOU that falls into the trap. It is YOU that will be held accountable. May Allah protect us from the evil that Shaitan whispers to us and from the evil within our own nafs. 

source: Islamic Thinking

islamicthinking:

It had been some time since Abdullah had seen the old man. College, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Abdullah moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Abdullah had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, “Mr. Bashir died last night. The funeral is Wednesday.”

Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

“Abdullah, did you hear me?”

“Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long since I thought of him. I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago,” Abdullah said.

“Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him he’d ask how you were doing. He’d reminisce about the many days you spent over ‘his side of the fence’ as he put it,” Mom told him.

“I loved that old house he lived in,” Abdullah said.

“You know, Abdullah, after your father died, Mr. Bashir stepped in to make sure you had a man’s influence in your life,” she said.

“He’s the one who taught me carpentry,” he said. “I wouldn’t be in this business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things… Mom, I’ll be there for the funeral,” Abdullah said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Abdullah caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Bashir’s funeral was small. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Abdullah and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Abdullah paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time.

The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture… Abdullah stopped suddenly.

“What’s wrong, Abdullah?” his Mom asked.

“The box is gone,” he said.

“What box?” Mom asked.

“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d ever tell me was ‘one of the things I value most,’” Abdullah said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Abdullah remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Bashir family had taken it.

“Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,” Abdullah said. “I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom.”

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Bashir died. Returning home from work one day Abdullah discovered a note in his mailbox. “Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days,” the note read.

Early the next day Abdullah retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.

“Mr. Haroon Bashir” it read.

Abdullah took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Abdullah’s hands shook as he read the note inside.

“Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Abdullah Ahmed. It’s one of the things I valued most in my life.” A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Abdullah carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:

“Abdullah, Thanks for your time! -Haroon Bashir.”

“One of the things he valued most…was…my time.”

Abdullah held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. “Why?” Janet, his assistant asked.

“I need some time to spend with my son,” he said. “Oh, by the way, Janet… thanks for your time!”

islamicthinking:

“And enjoin prayer upon your family [and people] and be steadfast therein. We ask you not for provision; We provide for you, and the [best] outcome is for [those of] righteousness.” [20:132]

All praises are to Allah, Ar-Razzaq (The Provider) who provides for everything that is in the heavens and the Earth but does not need provision himself! Allahu Akbar!