Recently I have been thinking about my Rawdah experience. Women can have two kinds of experiences when they visit, it is either in a state of chaos and crowds or the unexpected miraculous opportunities to visit beyond the designated section and enjoy a peaceful, quiet visit.
When I was blessed with the opportunity to visit the Rawdah, it was the former. I was unprepared for the commotion that ensued around me as I entered alongside the sisters that had been waiting with me. Suddenly finding myself wedged between several sisters, unable to take another step, confused by the loud exclamations, it took me a few moments to realize that this was it, that I was actually inside part of the Rawdah. As I tried to orient myself, I realized this was as good as it was going to get. Within the space I was stuck in, I began my 2 rak'ahs. Even within the disarray, I did get overcome with emotion and love for our beloved Prophet (saw).
As I stood up from my rushed prayer and watched the guards try to herd us all out to make space for the next group of visitors, I tried to see if I could somehow get a chance to stay a little longer. I watched a guard try to chase a sister who was sprinting past the exit, dodging around to enter the space up front that had already been cleared out once. Snapping back to reality, I decided I was going to continue making my way out, remembering the guide video for the Rawdah we had watched in the train on the way to Madinah. It had advised visitors to remain respectful and maintain the peace and quiet of this sacred space.
I remember vividly the moment I exited the Rawdah door and stepped back outside. Tears began flowing down my face, it felt like I had missed out on what was supposed to be a significant experience. In that instant it dawned on me that while I was still near the Rawdah, I needed to make one specific dua to complete this visit. Although it was a dua I made often, in this moment it came with a sense of intense longing like never before. In the steps I took walking away from that door, before passing from under the shadows of the umbrellas and into the sunlight, before merging back into life as I knew it, I asked Allah to increase me in love for Him and for the Prophet (saw).
As I made this dua, a deep sense of fulfillment flowed through me. In that sliver of time, my ears weren’t registering the sounds from the world around me and my eyes weren’t registering the sights. It was just me and Allah.
It has been a little over 2 years since that day.
In those 2 years, a lot happened around me and within my own life – oftentimes seemingly unrelated milestones, apparent setbacks, unexpected opportunities, bursts of growth and periods of ‘regression’.
As is often the case with significant moments in life, they feel powerful in the moment and then the effect wears off and fades into distant memory as you return to ‘normal’ life.
I hadn’t thought back much to that dua I made outside the Rawdah until a couple of months ago as I was reflecting on how reading the book, The Sirah of the Prophet (saw) by Dr. Yasir Qadhi, has shifted my perspective and brought me some clarity on how to navigate living in this increasingly convoluted world.
I thought about how this book, and others that were helping me get to know Allah and Rasulallah (saw) in new ways, came to be in my hands. Post Umrah we started a bookstore, the seed for which had been planted with another dua I had made in Makkah, earlier on in the same Umrah trip. This led us to researching books to stock, sourcing those books from all over the world and wanting to give some honest recommendations to people getting books from us. This is how we not only acquired Sirah of the Prophet (saw), but also constantly had access to it in a way where, despite the apparent time constraints and difficulty focusing, I did pick it up and read it all the way through. This past Ramadan, I also picked up a simple translation of the Quran in a format I hadn’t tried before, which helped me access the Quran in a new way.
Allah knows best but when I remembered that dua I made outside the Rawdah in January 2024, I couldn’t help but think that these are some of the ways in which my dua was, and continues to be, answered. Allah is planting opportunities in our path to get to know Him better, to get to know His Rasul (saw) better. Although I am far from where I need to be, I find that the more I learn, the more my love grows and my mind expands.
In these last few years, alongside the books and the moments of clarity, we have continued to witness multiple genocides and struggled with watching this deeply disturbing side of the world exposed in full force - one that I, at least, had previously been living somewhat comfortably, and to some extent willfully, in ignorance of.
It continues to take me time to translate into action the knowledge that I carry, and to fulfill the duties my privilege holds me responsible for. But leading up to that Umrah trip 2 years ago, with a lot of self-reflection prompted by Sheikh Adnan’s Friday khutbahs, I had understood that I needed to begin somewhere. I had understood that the direction I needed would come from leaning into our Islamic Values & the guidance I sought would come from turning to Allah - Al-Hadi (The Guide) and Al-Rashid (The Rightly-Guiding).
Ultimately, as is Allah’s design, I continue to discover how each thread is intimately woven together, continuing to stitch the fabric of my life as it unfolds.
We are now a few days away from leaving for Hajj – as I prepare my du’as for Arafah and my affairs for the eventuality that I may not return – I know now more than ever that sometimes, an answered dua doesn’t end the work, it deepens the responsibility. It gives you new opportunities to serve, new meaning to build, and through it all, as you watch a small piece of His beautiful, Divine plan unfold — you find your love for Allah’s Mercy and trust in His Wisdom grow deeper.