To Be Grateful

We always want more. Isn’t that the fundamental human experience? Always feeling inadequate, unfulfilled, like something’s missing. We could have the whole world and everything in it, and it still wouldn’t be enough. There’s a reason Jannah is such a powerful motivator, with its promises of bliss that never fades nor grows old. Isn’t that the ultimate dream? But instead of always seeking more in a never-ending quest for happiness, what if we tried to recognize the blessings we have in our lives and sincerely be thankful for them?

I was married on October 5, 2024, and it was not the easiest journey. I was first introduced to my husband more than a year ago. We spoke over the phone twice and met in person once, but almost immediately we independently realized the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. So, we told our respective parents as much and ended the conversation pretty quickly. And yet, for the next six months wherein we had no contact, I couldn’t shake this nagging feeling out of my heart this was whom I was meant to marry. Even after we ended things, even after I told my parents “no,” in my heart I was still making dua for him. Because despite how ridiculously contradictory my actions were to my feelings, I knew it was meant to work out, but I also knew it wasn’t the right time.

Six months passed and we decided to give it one more shot; two months later we were engaged, and four months after that we were married. Allah’s plan is beyond perfect. When the time was right, when we had become right for each other, everything fell into place in the most beautiful of ways. Nevertheless, those four months of engagement felt infinitely slow and agonizing. Speaking objectively, four months is not a long time. However, when you’ve made the decision to spend the rest of your life with someone, every second away from them feels like a minute, and every minute feels like an hour, and it feels like the time will never come. Of course, it did come, and we were soon married alhamdulillah.

But the test of patience didn’t end with our nikaah, and we were quickly forced to confront the reality of our situation. I live in Houston, and he’s based in Chicago. Neither of us is in a place where we can uproot our lives and move across the country, and while this is something we discussed before getting engaged, I don’t think either of us expected a long-distance relationship to be quite as challenging as we quickly realized it was.

There is something so emotionally draining, so genuinely hard, about committing your entire existence to someone and then having to live more than a thousand miles away from them. Life quickly begins to feel like a ‘filler episode,’ like you’re floating in space, going through the motions of life meaninglessly until you see him again. Then when you do see him, lights flash, the world beams in color, your heart starts to beat again, and you feel like you have purpose once more. That is until the weekend is over and you go your separate ways, and you can feel the ache creeping back into your chest from the distance.

Recently I complained about this to a friend, hoping for sympathy and comfort. Instead, her response forced me to pause and reflect. What a sad life I was choosing for myself. To live my day to day as if it meant nothing. To have put my all into one man, who may be deserving of it sure, but aren’t there also things I owe to myself? Don’t my parents deserve to have a daughter who serves them and treats each moment with them as precious? Don’t my siblings deserve a sister who’s present and makes time for them? Don’t my friends deserve my company, my conversations? And most importantly, doesn’t my Lord still have rights over me? Did He not give me purpose? Was I not created to worship Him and Him alone? Allah did not gift me with a husband for him to become my entire life. He is meant to be an addition to what already exists. A wonderful, kind, sweet addition but an addition nonetheless – not a replacement. The rest of the world did not vanish when I got married. Of course, it’s ridiculously difficult to be so far from him, but when I finally make the move across the country, I will be tested with distance from every single other person who I hold valuable. So instead of getting lost in the potential future, I have to live in the present and actively strengthen my connection with those who matter to me because this time with them is limited. That is the advice I was given, and while hearing it shook me to my core, it’s advice I’ve taken to heart.

To live in the moment, to make the most of each second as it passes, that is the true test of gratitude. Can I thank Allah for allowing me to have a home to live in, for blessing me with family and friends, for each minute I get to call my husband? Am I going to spend this year resentful and frustrated or content and grateful? Am I going to value the gifts Allah has granted me now or be upset about the things He’s saved for me in the future?

“Alhamdulillah ala kulli haal.” The Prophet (peace be upon him) taught us these words – “Praise be to Allah in all circumstances.” It doesn’t matter what test we’re faced with, whether it’s in regard to family, school, career, or anything else. We trust Allah and we trust in His perfect plan, and, with that trust, we are grateful to Him. Alhamdulillah.