What the Prophet ﷺ Left for You | Mufti Abdul Rahman Waheed | Miftaah Circle

A Mother Who Missed Her Husband by a Few Hours

Brothers and sisters, I want to put you in the shoes of a mother who was traveling back from Karachi with her two-year-old son. She had been separated from her husband for over a month. She was flying back, and right before she got on the flight, she had a warm conversation with her husband. Her husband was able to see his son over FaceTime. She gets on the flight. She arrives back to America.

When she arrives, she was expecting her husband to pick her up. But it wasn't her husband that picked her up — it was her husband's brother and mother-in-law. She asked, "Where is my husband?" And the brother-in-law said, "Inshallah, you'll see him. He's just not feeling good. We'll just get home."

You know, when you come back after a long trip and you have a two- or three-year-old child — I have three children — one of the most remarkable experiences is to see them after a long journey. The way they run at you, hug you. That's the tightest hug you'll ever get. And then after that, they just become havoc. It only lasts for a few seconds.

The son was, of course, missing his father's presence. But when they get to the house, as they get closer, the neighborhood reminds them of their home. They get to their house — and they hear the news that while she was on the flight, her husband had passed away. This is a young woman who missed out on her husband by a few hours. Could not see him. And the son is now an orphan.

What do you think was going through that mother's mind — that she missed out on seeing her husband? She arrives in her home city, and when she gets there, her husband had passed away.

Those Who Traveled to Meet the Prophet ﷺ — and Arrived Too Late

History records hundreds, if not thousands, of people who started their journey towards Medina Munawwara. A group specifically mentioned are those who came from Yemen. They came to Medina Munawwara to accept Islam. They were excited — finally going to come to the city of Medina Munawwara.

A poet says:

If I had to travel to Medina to meet the Prophet ﷺ walking on my eyes, I have not fulfilled any right of this beautiful reception. Imagine these people — they're getting closer and closer to Medina Munawwara and they start seeing the landmarks. The enthusiasm just starts getting more and more. As the tent nears the tent of the Beloved.

The poet also says:

When we started to see the landmarks of the One whom we love — forget what we would feel when we finally saw Him. His landmarks were so beloved to us that our hearts were about to burst just seeing the landmarks. Just seeing Uhud. Just seeing the streets that He walked in. Forget when we finally saw Him.

Even the intellect could not comprehend it. That is why Hasan al-Basri, rahimahullah, whenever he would walk by a date palm tree — or narrate the hadith of the date palm tree — he would cry. He would say:

"O people — this is a date palm tree. You are more worthy of having this yearning, this enthusiasm. You should be ready to give your life to finally see the Prophet ﷺ."

So these people said: We couldn't take it anymore. We got off our camels, our horses, our donkeys, and we started walking out of respect. How disrespectful is it that we get closer to our Beloved and we stay on the back of our horses? We stay on the back of our camels? We're going to walk. And that is why it was the sunnah of the Salaf as-Saliheen that when they would get to the outskirts, for the next six kilometers they would simply walk.

The Blind Poet of Madina

The poet Iqbal Azeem, rahimahullah — not Allama Iqbal, but Iqbal Azeem — was a blind man. He was born blind. But his poems about Madina Munawwara are unbelievable. Someone asked him: "If Allah gave you your sight back, what would you ask Allah to see?" He said, "If Allah gave me my sight, I would ask Him to let me see Madina, I would ask Him to let me see the Ka'bah, and I would ask Him to let me see all those things in the Quran that He has made reference to with the words:"

"I would ask, O Allah, let me see all those things that You have implored me to see, because I have never seen them in my life."

He says in his poetry: The moment you see this beautiful city — even us, even after this comfortable trip, but imagine putting yourself in those shoes, what they had to give up, the families they had to leave, the people that died on the way to the city — but even us today, someone who travels, the moment we see the beautiful green dome, something changes within you. Something just absolutely changes.

He said: It is the right of being there that I should fall in sajdah of shukr — O Allah, I don't deserve to be here, but I'm here. O Allah, I can't fall in sajdah, but my eyes have shed tears, and my tears are falling in sajdah.

They Walked In — and He Was Gone

Brothers and sisters — this group walked into Masjid Nabawi, and they found out that the Prophet ﷺ had passed away. They missed him by a few days.

It comes in al-Tabari that a man walked into the masjid — he came from Sham — just a few weeks after the Prophet had passed away. The Sahaba were sitting around Abu Bakr, radiyallahu 'anhu. He walked in and said: "As-salamu alaykum, Ya Rasulallah" — thinking Abu Bakr was the Prophet ﷺ.

The Sahaba had not heard Ya Rasulallah in weeks. And when they heard that, they just started weeping. They said: "This is not Rasulullah — this is Abu Bakr, radiyallahu 'anhu."

Missing Out — and What It Feels Like

Brothers and sisters, we know what it feels like when we missed out on an opportunity — investing in Bitcoin when it first came out, buying homes in Detroit in 2008 when they were $5,000 or $10,000. Those same homes are now half a million dollars. And what does everyone say? "I missed it."

We feel bad about it — that we missed the opportunity. But that's just some monetary thing, materials of this dunya, homes of this world, Bitcoin. How about missing out on the Prophet ﷺ? By the way — we missed out by 1,400 years. So this group of people comes, they walk into the masjid, and the Prophet ﷺ has passed away.

The Letter Left Behind

They go to Abu Bakr, radiyallahu 'anhu. He receives them. They take their shahada. After taking their shahada, Abu Bakr makes them sit next to him on his right.

Now — go back to that woman who came. She flew back to America and missed seeing her husband by a few hours. The sadness of losing out on seeing a beloved. But a few days later, her mother-in-law took a letter out and said: "My son wrote you a letter."

Now tell me — how is she going to read that letter? She is going to take that letter to the most private place in her house. No distractions. This is a letter from her beloved. That is what he left behind for her. Pictures mean nothing. The words have a different meaning.

So the next time you read the stories of the Sahaba — how they recited Quran, how they cried reading these verses — remember: this was a letter from Allah to them. This was something the Prophet ﷺ left behind for them. This was their attachment to their beloved ﷺ.

Yes, they missed out — this group that came, they missed out, just like us. So when they sat down in the corner of the masjid, Abu Bakr, radiyallahu 'anhu, said: "Teach them Quran." The person Abu Bakr designated to teach Quran started reciting:

Brothers and sisters — they had never heard these words in their lives. They started weeping. Weeping. Because their beloved had left behind something for them. He left behind the words of Allah.

And Abu Bakr, radiyallahu 'anhu, looked at them and said: "Haa kadha kunna, thumma qasat al-qulub." "We were just like this. Then our hearts became hard." Of course, out of humility he was saying this.

The person who recites this Quran now is reading it as what the Prophet ﷺ has left behind for us. This is our attachment to the Prophet of Allah. This is a letter directed to me. Like that mother — she is going to look at every single word, read it over and over again.

Reading the Quran as a Letter — Word by Word

When you start reading the Quran as a letter from your Beloved, you start focusing on every word. The scholar before me spoke and cited:

Most English translations render this as: "If you count the blessings of Allah, you cannot count them." But the word blessings is actually not quite right. The word in Arabic is نِعْمَة — it is singular. Wahid. So it actually means: If you count a blessing of Allah — a single blessing. Doesn't that change everything? Forget trying to count all the blessings. Allah says even if you try to count the benefits of a single blessing, you can't do it. Try to count the blessing of seeing. You can't. The benefits of the blessing of iman — you can't. You start thinking completely different.

Khalideen vs. Khalidan — Jannah and Jahannam

In Surah an-Nisa, Allah says:

Allah says: the one who obeys Allah and follows the Prophet ﷺ — Allah will give them entrance into Jannah, and they will remain in it forever. And the next verse: the one who disobeys Allah and transgresses His boundaries — they will be given entrance into Jahannam, and they will remain in it forever.

But Allah uses two different forms. For the people of Jannah, He used the plural word for "forever": خَالِدِينَ. For the people of Jahannam, He used the singular word: خَالِدًا. Why?

A person starts thinking — Allah is giving me a message here. In this world, when you want to punish somebody, you send them to prison. But if they stay long enough, 10–15 years, they start playing chess together, they start getting used to it. But if you want to punish someone even further, you put them in solitary confinement. Alone. So Allah, through the word خَالِدًا — singular — is conveying the message that when you go to Jahannam, you are going to be alone. You are not going to be with anybody.

You know when we were young, we would hear friends say, "If you're gonna be in hell, that'll be cool" — but no. You're not going to see anyone in hell. You're going to be alone.

And Allah, through the word خَالِدِينَ for Jannah — the plural — He is demonstrating that you are going to be with the people you love.

Surah az-Zumar — The Waw of Anticipation

As people start focusing more on the letter of their Beloved, they notice something in Surah az-Zumar. Allah says:

The word سِيقَ has a negative connotation — it means someone being ushered, forcefully pushed. So Allah says the people of Jahannam will be forcefully ushered to Jahannam. But the same word is used for the people of Jannah. Why would the people of Jannah be forcefully ushered to Jannah?

And then — notice: for Jahannam, when they arrive, the doors are opened immediately: فُتِحَتْ. But for Jannah, there is a وَاو — a waw — before: وَفُتِحَتْ. Why is there a waw there?

This is the tafsir of Allama ar-Razi, rahimahullah. And there are many interpretations, but this is the one I want to share with you. This is when you start reading the letter of your loved one — you start paying attention to every word.

Because when we get to the doors of Jannah, the doors will be closed. There will be a lounge outside the doors of Jannah. Why? Because the Prophet ﷺ won't be there yet. The doors of Jannah are not going to open until the Prophet ﷺ gets there. He is going to be running around helping people.

Aisha, radiyallahu 'anha, once asked: "Ya Rasulallah, where am I going to meet you on the Day of Judgment?" He ﷺ said:

(Related in Sahih Muslim, Book 1)

"Three places: either when the Book of Deeds are given, I will be standing there saying, 'Ya Rabbi, salim, salim' — O Allah, please let them go. Or when the deeds will be weighed, 'Ya Rabbi, salim, salim' — O Allah, please. Or on the bridge of the Sirat — I will be grabbing you by your waists, pulling you out of the Fire."

People will go to Jannah. But when they get there, the doors will be closed. And we will be looking around for our friends, for our brothers, for our sisters — just like the Prophet ﷺ will be looking for his ummah. So then finally a time will come where the angel will say: "Now you can't help anyone. Let's make your way to Jannah." We want to be those people, inshAllah.

Just one waw gives us the message that when we get to the doors of Jannah, we will be waiting there. And outside there will be two rivers. From one you will drink, and the filth within our bodies will be purified. And there is that stubborn stain left in the heart — غِلّ. Some people in this world: you forgive them, but there is something still left. When you drink from that river, even that goes away. The other river is where you will wash your face, and you will receive the beauty of Jannah.

That is what one waw gives us. The Prophet ﷺ will be looking around, helping people — and we will be waiting for him at the gates.

Why Imam Shafi'i Forgave So Easily

Imam Shafi'i, rahimahullah, was asked: "Why is it so easy for you to forgive people? How is it so easy?" And I conclude with this. He said:

"Look — I know the Prophet ﷺ on the Day of Judgment is going to be running around trying to help his ummah. If I don't forgive somebody in this world, that means the Prophet ﷺ has to help him get into Jannah."

"Should I be the reason the Prophet's ﷺ entry into Jannah is delayed? Let me forgive him now — so that because of my ego, the Prophet's entry into Jannah is not delayed. I forgive him. Because I do not want the Prophet ﷺ to be delayed in getting to Jannah."

Conclusion — Pick Up the Letter He Left You

Brothers and sisters — think of yourself as that person who got to Madina Munawwara at the time of the Prophet ﷺ, missed out on the Prophet ﷺ, but was presented with the Quran. Every time you pick up the Quran, just imagine yourself — which is the reality: we missed out on being with the Prophet ﷺ, but he left us with the Book of Allah.

Assalamu alaykum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh.