Have You Ever Returned Home Only to Find Everything Exactly as You Left It?
After returning from travels to the blessed Haramain of Madinah and Makkah, and spending time in the company of the people of knowledge in Jordan, I found myself back in Australia confronting the same problems, the same challenges, and the same disappointment that not much seems to go our way.
It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? You travel halfway across the world, your heart and mind expanded by sacred spaces and conversations, only to land back in the familiar rhythm of difficulty and discouragement.
But here’s what I remind myself first, then those around me: this world has a Lord. His name is Allah, jalla jalaluh. He is in control. Never for a moment should we feel despondent.
A Reminder in the Most Unexpected Moment
Earlier this week, I was invited to record a podcast at a local masjid. The discussion moved from commenting on world affairs (which seem relentlessly negative) to reflecting on something far more powerful: how the Prophet ﷺ was a visionary and optimist, even in the midst of siege and potential defeat.
Even when surrounded by armies. Even when betrayed by allies. Even when the odds were stacked against him.
We spoke about this for nearly an hour, trying to extract lessons we could apply to our own lives today.
At the end of the podcast, as we were wrapping up our equipment, a random person knocked on the door of the masjid and said he wanted to announce his shahadah. Subhan Allah.
Just like that. No appointment. No prior contact. Just a knock on the door.
He sat down, asked some questions with genuine curiosity, then entered into Islam. He carried a packet of coloured jelly as a gift for the masjid and community. That was his first act after embracing Islam: giving a gift with a smile.
I thought about this moment for days afterward. Here we were, discussing how to remain optimistic in dark times, and Allah sent us a living reminder that He is always with us, always guiding, always opening hearts in ways we could never arrange ourselves.
The Blessing of Direct Transmission
Back to Jordan. Those precious days feel like they happened in another lifetime, though it’s only been a few days.
I was honoured with endless hours reading beneficial books of knowledge, from Usul al-Fiqh to al-Kalam, with direct chains (isnād) back to the authors of those books.
To sit with scholars who carry knowledge passed down teacher to student, generation after generation, is to experience something our modern world has almost forgotten: the weight and blessing of direct transmission.
Yes, it was hard again on the knees. The sitting, the focus, the discipline required to absorb dense classical texts. None of it comes easily. But the mind and heart were in intense need and yearning.
I realised something profound during those study sessions: we often speak about physical hunger, but we rarely acknowledge the hunger of the soul and intellect. We’re quick to notice when our bodies need food, but we can go years starving our minds and hearts without even realising it.
Holding onto Hope When Nothing Changes
So here’s where I am now: back in Australia, facing the same struggles I left behind. The same community challenges. The same political frustrations. The same feeling that the world is moving in the wrong direction.
But I’m different.
Because I’ve been reminded. through sacred lands, through teachers, through a man holding coloured jelly, that Allah’s plan is unfolding exactly as it should. Our job isn’t to control outcomes. Our job is to remain steadfast, to continue learning, to keep showing up with sincerity and hope.
The Prophet ﷺ taught us this by example. When he was rejected in Ta’if and pelted with stones until his sandals filled with blood, he didn’t despair. When the Muslims were besieged and starving during the Battle of the Trench, he didn’t lose hope. When defeat seemed certain at Uhud, he didn’t give up.
He kept going.
He kept trusting.
He kept his vision clear.
And so must we.
When you return from a spiritually uplifting experience, how do you maintain that connection when everyday life returns? What helps you hold onto hope when circumstances don’t seem to change?