SEEING YOUR HOME IN JENNAH: ON SEEKING DIVINE HELP
I know a story that isn’t just a story. It begins with a woman who loved something more than the glitter
of this life. She was a woman who never allowed herself to be defined or limited by her painful
circumstances; she carried in her such a deep faith that she was willing to die for it. She was a queen,
yet saw through the thrones and palaces of this world. She saw through her palace in this life, and
looked instead to her palace in the next. But, for Asiyah, wife of Pharoah, this was not just a
metaphoric glimpse of the heart. For Asiyah, her glimpse was a vision of her physical eyes.
Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) says: “God sets forth an example for those who believe —
the wife of Pharaoh who said: ‘My Lord, build for me with Thee a house in heaven, and save me from
the Pharaoh and his doings, and save me from an unjust people’.”
I’ve heard the story of Asiyah countless times. And each time it strikes me. But it wasn’t until recently
that her story hit me for another reason entirely. A few months ago, I was facing a difficult test. And
the beauty of having righteous, angel-like souls as your company is something priceless. When you are
in difficulty, it only takes one text message, one status update on Facebook, one email to the
Suhaibwebb listserve, and you have a whole army of beautiful souls praying for you. Subhan’Allah
(glory be to Him).
So I made that request. I asked for the greatest gift any human being can give to another. I asked for
sincere dua’, supplication. What I received overwhelmed me. I’ll never forget that gift of Allah. I had people praying for me in qiyam (night prayer), while standing in front of the kabaa, while traveling, even while giving birth. I received so many du
a’s, yet there was one that really hit me. It
was just a simple text message, but it read: “May you be shown your Home in Jennah so that any
hardship is made easy on you.” I read it and it hit. It really hit.
And then I remembered the story of Asiyah, and suddenly realized something amazing. Asiyah was
undergoing the most severe torture any person could imagine. Pharoah was the greatest tyrant ever to
walk the earth. He wasn’t just a ruler over her. He was her husband. And in her final moments,
Pharoah began to brutally torture her. But something strange happened. Asiyah smiled. She was going
through one of the most severe hardships any human being could experience, and yet she smiled.
How is that? How it is that she could be tortured and smile, and when we face a traffic jam, or
someone looks at us the wrong way, we can’t handle it? How is it that Prophet Ibrahim (as) `alayhi
sallatu wa sallam (may Allah send His peace and blessings on him) was faced with one of the
greatest calamities, and yet the fire felt cool for him? Why do some people who have nothing find no
reason to complain, while others who have ‘everything’ find nothing but reasons to complain? How is
it that sometimes we have more patience with the big challenges in life than we do with the everyday
small ones?
I used to think calamites were hard because certain things are just objectively difficult to bear. I
thought there was a master list, a standard hierarchy of difficulty. The death of a loved one, for
example, is always harder to bear than getting a traffic ticket. It seems obvious enough. It seems
obvious.
But, it’s also wrong.
A calamity of any type is not hard to bear because the calamity itself is difficult. The measure of ease