In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.

Listen, you who claim to walk this path. You come with your questions about tawakkul—reliance upon Allah—and you think it is a soft pillow upon which you can rest your lazy heads. You have misunderstood. The Qurʾān teaches us of tawakkul, but what you practice is tawākul—a passive, indolent waiting, expecting your needs to be delivered to you on a platter while you do nothing. This is not the way of the strong; it is the way of the idle, a pathetic excuse for inaction veiled in the language of faith.

Look to the master of all creation, the Prophet Muḥammad, may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him, during the most critical moment of his mission: the Hijrah. When he and his companion Abū Bakr were in the cave, and the enemy stood at its mouth, did this station of divine intimacy arrive out of nowhere? No! Allah teaches us through His Prophet that you must first exhaust the means (asbāb). The Prophet did not simply sit in Mecca and pray for deliverance. He planned. He departed under the cover of night. He traveled a difficult, unknown path. He and his companion took refuge in a cave and sealed it well. He took every conceivable human measure to secure their safety. Only then, after the means had been exhausted and the danger was physically upon them, did the station of pure tawakkul manifest.

It was at that moment, when Abū Bakr’s human fear surfaced, that the Prophet said his timeless words: “Do not grieve, for surely Allah is with us.” When did he say this? He said it when all material means were gone, when there was nothing left but the sheer presence of Allah. The Divine Presence came to conceal them from their pursuers. This is the lesson: tawakkul is not the negation of means; it is the courageous application of means, followed by the heart’s complete turning to the Causer of all means. You must act in the world as if everything depends on you, and then trust in Allah as if you have done nothing at all.

This is where you stumble. When a provision comes to you through the hand of another, you see the hand and forget the Giver. You see the person who helped you and elevate them, in your heart, to the status of a provider. This is a subtle shirk, an association of partners with Allah. If you see that he gave you, you have erred. But if you see that Allah is the true Giver who merely used that person as a conduit, you have seen correctly. The one who understands this is one whose migration (hijrah) is truly from the creation to the Creator.

The People of Allah (ahl Allāh) understood this deeply. They would test their own hearts to ensure their connection (waṣl) was true. Look at the Prophet Ibrāhīm, who said, “My Lord, show me how You give life to the dead.” Was he in doubt? No, he said it was “so that my heart may be at rest.” He sought the certainty that solidifies faith. Look at Maryam, who was tested in her provision. So, if you have reached a state of reliance after taking all the necessary means, it is not forbidden to test your heart to see if you are truly near to Him. But beware! You are not to seek miracles (karāmāt) for show. And if a sign (ʿalāmah) does come to you, return to reliance on the outward means, as prescribed by the Law. To constantly seek transcendence beyond all causes in every matter is a mark of a heart that is still weak and unsettled.

Your greatest sickness, however, is not a misunderstanding of asbāb. It is your cowardice. You live in fear. But what do you fear? Abū Bakr feared the hardened enemies of Islam, the powerful Quraysh who sought to extinguish the light of God. And you? You fear the very Muslim you pray beside in the mosque. You are afraid of what people will say. You live two lives in one body, presenting a face to the world and hiding another in secret. You wish for happiness and tranquility while living a lie. You want to be among the people of light, but you don’t want to be seen wearing the patched cloak—or standing beside someone who wears it. You wish to drink a healing remedy, but you’re plagued by anxiety that someone might mistake it for wine. What is wrong with you? Be a man! Be a woman of ṣidq (sincerity)! Fear no one but your Lord. Be at peace with yourself. 

The one who is sincere has nothing to hide and no one to fear. The real men of God are those who say, “He who denies me and my convictions, it is his affair, not mine.” They are governed by the Divine Law (sharʿ), not the fickle customs of society. And if doubt enters the heart of such a person, they know the way: perform istikhārah and return to the Lord for guidance.

The one upon whom Allah has bestowed mercy has an unshakable faith. He walks with confidence wherever his soul finds comfort, not hunched over and folded in on himself in fear. Fear Allah, disciples, not the creation of Allah. There is a saying we have: “Fear three: Allah, the one who fears Allah, and the one who does not fear Allah.” You have inverted this wisdom and now only fear the insignificant judgments of men.

If your faith were strong, you could sleep amongst criminals, and by the power of your good opinion of Allah (ḥusn al-ẓann billāh), He would make them your protectors until morning. Why? Because you are with Allah. When you perfect your opinion of Him, He blesses His dealings with you with beauty and grace. But when your opinion of Him is poor, He treats you accordingly. Your reality is nothing but a reflection of your certainty.

Do you not know the story the gnostics tell about happiness? When Allah sent happiness down to the earth, Satan gathered his followers and asked, “Where shall we hide it from the son of Adam?” One demon suggested hiding it on the highest mountain. “No,” Satan replied, “he will eventually climb it.” Another suggested the deepest part of the ocean. “No,” Satan said, “God may give him the ability to retrieve it.” Then a cunning she-devil spoke up: “Let us hide it deep within the human himself, and then we will distract him with worldly temptations so that he never thinks to look for it there.” Satan declared, “This is the perfect solution.”

And so here you are, spending your entire life searching for happiness in illusions, chasing it in wealth, status, and the approval of others, while it lies buried within your own soul. Search for it within yourself, and you will find it through the remembrance of Allah (dhikr Allāh). This is why the People of God have told you: “Close your eyes, perform your dhikr, and dive into the darkness of your own self. Plunge deep until the Reality (al-Ḥaqīqah) dawns, until He appears, and you are annihilated (fanāʾ).”

The summary, then, is simple, yet it is the work of a lifetime. Fear the Creator and turn away from the creation. Take the means, but attach your heart to the Causer of means. Purify your intention, be sincere in your state, and abandon your crippling fear of what others think. True tawakkul is the attribute of a heart that has found its security in Allah alone. Now, stop asking questions and begin the work.