what could you give up for Allah on top of the mountain?
the day of arafah 🕋
this morning, i was talking to my online friend about the day of arafah. she’s not a muslim, wasn’t raised religious and is agnostic. but she is in search for something and has looked into islam before. so, naturally, she had questions as i was telling her about how blessed today is. as i explained the multiple reasons behind why we fast and/or worship more today, the one thing that she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around was the story of prophet Ibrahim (as) being tested and told to sacrifice his son, Ismail (as).
at first, i thought she was saying that the whole idea was absurd and was attacking the story, so i became defensive. i started explaining to her that Allah wanted to test Ibrahim (as) because he wanted a son his entire life and he was old, so, logically, it was unlikely. but he never lost hope. he kept praying and praying, putting his trust in Allah. and when he finally had a child, Allah wanted to test him to see if, after getting what his heart desired the most, he still loved Allah more. and he did. and as soon as he was about to sacrifice Ismail (as), Allah told him to stop, and said He was testing His love and obedience.
i started relating the story to modern-day society, about how people pray and pray for things—like wealth and status for example, and then once they get it, they forget who gave it to them. they prioritise the gift over the Giver, as Yasmin Mogahed put it beautifully in her book Reclaim your Heart. some even start to do evil things to maintain their reputation, status and wealth, and end up moving away from God and have a huge unwillingness to give it up. so, i told her, the story serves as a reminder for the rest of humanity to always have Allah in your heart. to still appreciate and love the gifts that He gives, but never more than Him. that we should strive and be ready to sacrifice anything for Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ’s sake as well.
but after explaining everything, she told me that she had already understood everything. she understood what the lesson is about, what the story means. that’s when i realised that she wasn’t shocked because she didn’t believe in it. she was shocked because she was scared.
the whole concept of wanting something your entire life, finally getting it but then being tested to sacrifice it for God was scary to her. she couldn’t wrap her head around it, she kept wondering how Ibrahim (as) must have felt. and she told me that she wouldn’t be able to sacrifice her son.
and do you know what? neither could i.
that’s when i realised that she’s right. it is scary. it’s not something easy at all. the story of Ibrahim (as) is one of my favourite stories ever. eid ul-adha is my favourite eid for this story alone. i hear it every year, i’ve grown up learning about it, i tell my friends the story even though they know it—i was so excited to tell the story to my new friend today, too. but talking to someone who’s never heard of the story before made me realise how hard it truly is. it’s easy in hindsight to describe the story and how Allah tested Ibrahim (as)’s loyalty, and how we sacrifice animals in remembrance of that.
but in reality, when i ask myself if i could do that too…? the answer is not yes as it should be. my friend related it to herself and imagined praying for a good man—which is literally what i’ve been doing and, if you’ve been here for a while, you’ll know that that’s what *i* want most—and then said what if God tells you to cheat on him. i, of course, told her that that’s different and explained that God wouldn’t ask anyone to cheat and why. but her concept behind it was simple: imagine being asked to give up the one thing you’ve always wanted for God?
i started thinking… could i give up what i’ve always wanted? sometimes i’ll be watching netflix and when it’s prayer time, i’ll tell myself i’ll pray when it finishes. or i’ll be studying and i’ll look at the time but stay at my desk, telling myself i’ll pray in a second, let me just get through this.
so forget sacrificing a child—can i even sacrifice the little things, like my favourite series?
the story of Ibrahim (as) is beautiful and powerful but more importantly, it needs to be inspiring. as i was talking to my friend, i told her that testing Ibrahim (as) was only part of it as it serves a greater purpose for the rest of humanity. Allah knew how much Ibrahim (as) loved Him and that he would’ve given up Ismail (as) like he was willing to. but not everyone can do that. in fact, i think that there are very few people in the world who would similarly be willing to sacrifice their child like that too. and that’s why Allah asked someone who could do it—so that we can know the intensity and the amount of love we should have in our hearts for Allah and Allah alone—greater than and above anything else that we love.
but sometimes we want to. we want to strive for Allah, we want to be able to sacrifice things easily for Allah. but sometimes we find it hard. sometimes we tend to cling onto things we love most. sometimes we do desperately want something and when we get it, it’s incredibly difficult to give it up. sometimes we accidentally get attached—we want to be attached only to Allah, but we accidentally attach ourselves to other things. and it becomes scary to give up.
and when this is the case, sometimes Allah makes it easy. not by directly asking us to give things up for Him—but by taking them Himself.
i feel like this season in my life is calling for release. since i turned twenty-two, life has been hitting me in all kinds of directions. i’ve been hurt when i least expected it. i’ve had fall outs with friends. in my last post, i spoke about how my relationship with my father has gone downhill and how much that’s been hurting me, not just because of how he hurt me deeply but also because i always wanted a good relationship with him, and finally thought i had one—until now. now it’s not good anymore. my own version of the story of Ibrahim (as), except i didn’t willingly give it up. it was taken.
last night, i also found out that my aunty passed away and that’s something that i’ve been fearing for a while now. i didn’t want her to die. not yet. i wanted her to get better and fight against the cancer and live for longer. i wish she was still here. i wish i could’ve said goodbye. but she’s gone.
things—people—are leaving my life. inna lillah wa inna ilayhi raji'un. we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return. it’s only when people actually leave that you realise the truth in that statement. you have no choice but to submit. everything returns to Allah and that’s that.
but a few months ago, i was in sujood and i asked Allah to detach me from the dunya and help me only be attached to Him. i said,
i’m scared of what this prayer will bring. i know asking for detachment from the world means that it’s not going to be easy and i’m scared. but i’m going to make this prayer anyway. because i want to only be attached to you.
the thing i have always been attached to is people. my relationships with people. my relationship with my father. so it’s no surprise that people have been leaving my life, that people have been hurting me, that my father especially has really hurt me.
i didn’t want this to happen, and if i was asked to give all of these people up… to give up the good relationship with my dad that i always wanted… i’m not sure what my answer would be. i can say i would give it up now, now that i’ve actually felt the pain of it all, now my appetite has returned, now that i’m doing better, now that i know that even though my dad hasn’t spoken to me in a few weeks and really hurt me and i’ll most likely not see him tomorrow for eid, i’m still doing okay, i’m still alive, it wasn’t the end of the world. now that my aunty is gone and there’s nothing i can do about it, except just grieve, feel sad and pray for her, now that my friendships with people who i’ve loved and had in my life since childhood aren’t really the same anymore, and i’ve felt the hurt and shock and pain, but i’m still alive—now i can say yes. i could give it up.
but before any of this happened, i don’t think i’d be able to say i’d give it all up for Allah. definitely not at the same time, at least. if someone had told me that this would all happen at the same time, i would’ve thought my death is near.
but i did want to only be attached to Him. so this all happened. at the same time. i’ve lost and i’m losing and i’m grieving in so many different ways. and it hurts and it stings and i’m trying my best to get through. but it’s all making me have more space for Allah in my heart. i’m releasing my attachments and slowly understanding what it truly means to only depend on and rely on Allah alone. because He truly is the Only. the Only One i should have in my heart. the Only One i should love more than anything else.
so i guess what i’m trying to say is sometimes we want to only have Allah in our hearts and we want to be like Ibrahim (as). but we’re not like him. and we find it difficult. but that yearning for Allah alone is enough. all we have to then do is ask Him to detach us, and He will make it easy—just not always in the ways that we like or want. because it is scary to give up the things we love most. and sometimes we’re conflicted. we want to love Allah but it’s hard to have the courage and will like Ibrahim (as) to outright give it up like him. so Allah helps us.
now, my friend wants to read the Qur’an. after she asked me why there’s a lot of fasting in islam and i explained how it gives us taqwa and spiritual discipline, and we spoke a lot about sacrificing things for God, she wants to try it now. may Allah Azzawajal guide her to Islam and may she believe in Him and find Him, Ameen. and after talking to her about it, now i want to strive harder for Allah’s sake.
on arafah today and throughout eid, let’s truly internalise the story of Ibrahim (as). let’s ask ourselves what we love most in life and if we could give it up like him. and if the answer is no—but you want it to be yes, maybe make the brave du’a to have your heart only attached to Allah.
because the price we pay for love is grief. but with that grief, after losing everything, after being so hurt and wounded and realising that we have nowhere else to go, we’re met with the loving warmth of Allah’s arms as He embraces us and fills up our hearts with His illuminating, blazing light that never diminishes. we’re given His protection in this life and the next. we’ll be satisfied and strong enough to endure anything that comes our way. we’ll realise that He’s all we’ve ever had to begin with. and that maybe grief wasn’t always a bad thing, if it meant returning to Allah.
because we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return. but we don’t have to wait until we die to return to Him.
“whoever rejects evil and believes in Allah has grasped the most trustworthy hand-hold that never breaks. And Allah hears and knows all things” (2:257).
grab a blessing:
hasbi Allahu laa ilaaha illa huwa alayhi tawakkaltu wa huwa Rabbul arshil adheem
(Allah is enough for me. There is none worthy of worship but Him. I have placed my trust in Him. He is the Lord of the Majestic throne)
eid mubarak to you all! may all your good deeds throughout these ten days of dhul hijjah, especially during the day of arafah, be accepted and may your du’as be answered in the most beautiful ways. may you have a wonderful and happy day on eid as well :)
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— SabrGirl ♡.
This was such a refreshing and beautiful read!
To give up what you want before you have it, is indeed hard. But to give it up after you have had it, that is even harder. The grief truly seeps in.
Subhan’Allah this is such a beautiful reflection. Thank you for sharing. Eid Mubarak to you and yours, may Allah (SWT) accept it from all of us. Ameen.