From Raven Wilson

What If…

What if my parents hadn’t raised me to know the name of Jesus Christ?
What if I never found out about everything he’s sacrificed?
What if for every sin I committed, I had to pay the price?
What if on this earth was my only life?

What if I never got to experience the fullness of the Lord?
What if every single one of my prayers went ignored?
What if I had no purpose in my life to work toward?
What if my soul never got the chance to be restored?

What if I lived my life empty never feeling whole?
What if meeting Jesus one day wasn’t the ultimate goal?
What if Jesus never gave me all His heart and soul?
What if my life wasn’t under His control?

To God almighty who gave me life, I am thankful
With words that will never be able to describe how you always remain faithful
To Your people, their prayers, and their purpose
Showering us in Your love that is beyond precious

We deserve nothing, yet you give us an eternal promise
Reminding us of who we are, even when we feel worthless
There is no sin that can’t be forgiven because Your grace is limitless
And in Your eyes, each and every one of us is priceless

Thank you, God for the price you paid on that cross

So to You, I will give thanks everyday no matter the cost
And if I never knew you in all my days on this earth,
Above everything else, that would be my greatest loss

From Mahir Awsaf

Letter to the beloved
Dear, Prophet Muhammad (SAW)
By Mahir Awsaf

What should I say?!
For my mouth is dry
What should I say?!
For my heart is trembling
What should I say?!
Except that I’ve waited forever for this day

The day where I can thank you!
The day where my soul meets its teacher
The day where I can hear all the stories untold

Tesla was ahead of his time, but you stand the test of time
Gandhi was revolutionary, but you gave when you had nothing left
All these great people, but only 1 is perfect
You, Prophet Abū al-Qāsim Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn ʿAbd al-Muṭṭalib ibn Hāshim

For your heart beats would shake mountains
Your shyness would compare to a virgin
Yet your courage would shock an Angel
Your love would heal those who didn’t want to be loved
What can I say?
Except it’s an insult to you, to use parables as such
For you are a man of God, one of faith
Even the Angel of death sought permission to take your soul
Let alone Allah, who when mentioning you, calls you not by ‘Muhammad’
but rather by ‘Oh Prophet’

From Aishah Alwan

Dear Beloved (peace be upon you),

When i sit with you, I feel your presence, I see you sitting across me, cross legged, smiling at me, pleased.

I start to cry, to choke out the words, I can no longer put on a face. “I’m not okay, I’m not okay living without you. I need your hands, I need you.”

You are not always on my mind like you should be, but perhaps each of these encounters are drawing me closer to you. I’d love to be able to always bring you into my life, especially during difficult times.

“What would my leader do in this situation? How would my teacher respond to that person? How would my beloved react in this circumstance?” Everything would become easier and clear. You are my light. Even in my heedlessness, you are always guiding me. Thank you.

From Anonymous

bi-smi lLahi r-Rahmani r-Rahim

Assalaamo alayka wa rahmatollahi wa barakaatoh ya Rasool Allah

I have a problem.

Forgive me.

My pride is keeping me from getting closer to you.

I’m blessed in so many ways – health, family, beautiful teachers and teachings, God given abilities – indeed, I couldn’t count them if I tried.

But where’s my thanks giving? The real one that invests each atom and joule to unearth the Jewel within the son of Adam.

Is mine the only wounded heart that could heal from the guidance that comes to me?

What is an absence of thankfulness but a presence of pride?

More than that I live in the bubble of my pride. Stewing in my so-called challenges, and worries. Insisting on looking for solutions from myself. Refusing to exchange a moment of slumber for an ongoing awakening.

I can’t fight my pride – not from myself, not with these empty hands, not with this feeble heart.

How can I muster the courage to step into the role that awaits me?

My only hope is to transcend by loving you!

Ya Rasool Allah!

I have a problem.

Help me.

Love.

You.

wassalaamo alayka wa rahmatollahi wa barakaatoh

From Sanjay Subhag

To: My Beloved
From: Your brother and lowly student, Sanjay
Would you believe that my heart was washed when I read about the washing of yours?
I didn’t believe in myself till I heard about your belief in our Lord
I couldn’t dream of servitude until you told me what the best servants do
I wouldn’t be complete in solitude if you didn’t solidify my purpose to


And oh RasoolAllah, beloved of the Sculptor of the Stars
Even at a distance, I feel close to you the way your companions are
Within an instant I want to mimic the way you lived
To fulfill my existence I’d want to exhibit the qualities your companions did


Like Abu Bakr (ra), the true definition of a friend
Who’s tears touched your blessed face as he quietly endured the scorpion’s sting
Or like Umar (ra), who’s jealousy for the deen was to hard to match
True defender of the messenger against any harm that would come to pass


Or like Uthman (ra), who married those of your kin
You knew him to be the modest one, who like you avoided sin
Or like Ali (ra), the one whom you fought alongside
A true commander of the Muslims willing to sacrifice his life


What a virtue it is to drink from your hands from Jannah’s streams
How amazing it would be to see you in my dreams
Taken aback I would be with RasulAllah in front of me
The opportunity so surreal, how would I even speak?


I’m in love with the softness of your hands, the beauty of your smile
The wisdom of your words, the significance of your trials
The triumphs of your life, the compassion in your voice
The purity of your heart, the tranquility amongst the noise


May Allah’s peace and blessings be upon you, His noble slave
The one who will race on the day that there is no shade but His shade
Crying “Ummati” for your people to be saved
Words can’t express my love nor will it express how much you gave


My beloved.

From Hailey De Jong

O Beloved Rasool-Allah,

As I wandered into the Haram of Jerusalem for the first time, my eyes scanned the surroundings, and eventually settled on a golden dome, lit up against the darkness of the night sky. A wave of emotion crashed over me. This was the sacred precinct that had been mentioned by the Most High in the Holy Qur’an. Upon entering the Dome of the Rock, I immediately noticed an area surrounded by a barrier. Inside was a large rock—the place where you, our Beloved Prophet, ascended to the Heavens and began the journey in which you led all of the righteous messengers that came before you in prayer.

I gazed over the rock, and inspected it from many different angles. There was one corner where I found people reaching their hands inside. When my turn came, I reached in deeply and my hand grazed over a part of the stone, made smooth by lovers continuously caressing it for hundreds of years. This is the closest I had ever been to a place where you had also been, to where your blessed foot had stepped.

After a while of silent contemplation, I stepped back out into the night. As I looked up into the darkness of the sky, I spotted the moon hovering gracefully above the golden dome of the mosque. It was a full moon, and I couldn’t help but think of how your companions used to describe your illustrious face as being like the full moon, not overpowering like the sun. The sun can blind you if you look for too long, yet the moon emits a soft and elegant light. One can gaze upon it and their eyes will not be overwhelmed by the beauty.
O Messenger of God! How wrong was I to think that one needs to be physically close to where you once walked in order to be truly close to you! For true lovers see you in their mind’s eye, their hearts, and their dreams. They need not travel the world in search of you in order to express their love when it already exists everywhere they go. I pray to Al-Wadood, the Most Loving, to increase the love for you in my heart. Oh Prophet mine, I wish to keep you in my remembrance with every breath I take and every du’a I make. I hope that every time I look up and see a full moon, I remember your illuminated face. I wish to no longer simply see a glowing orb in the night, but that instead I see a gentle face whose dark eyes are set against a skin whose tone is a perfect balance between light and dark, whose jet hair and beard are lightly interspersed with a few gray hairs, and whose teeth are strong and bright like oysters. And when there is no full moon to remind me of the radiance of your face, I pray that I can already see it in my dreams.