Reflection on Juz’ 16 by Aisha Caruth

Many of us are likely struggling with trauma, sorrow, and sinking paralysis. Even in your brokenness, still pour out your heart to Allah and reach for the Qur’an, you too can find solace and in my case a reminder that resonates within.

I will be sharing a reflection of Juz’ 16, which extends from Surah Kahf (18:75) to Surah Ta-Ha (20:135). 

But first, I have a confession: I wasn’t enthusiastic about reading the Qur’an. My heart was broken as I recently reflected on the loss of two elders who transitioned to Allah coupled with insecurity about my own trajectory in life. And so I approached reading Juz’ 16 from a position of brokenness with silent prayers nestled deep within my soul that only found refuge in the whisperings to my Creator And there I sat with the Qur’an on its stand, just a hand’s reach away. I drew in my feet cross legged, exhaled deeply, opened and turned the pages to the opening lines of Juz’ 16 when al-Khidr replies to Musa (AS):

He answered, “Did I not tell you that you cannot have patience with me?”

Khidr’s stern reminder was a jolt to my soul. I re-read the words and understood the guidance particularly as I reimagined the voice. Khidr’s wake up call uttered eons ago, when reimagined reflected the warnings from my own beloved elders translated as “sit down and be still! You may not be pleased with the qadr, but have patience with it.” 

And there in that opening ayah, I found encouragement to continue journeying with the juz’. I share that because even during Ramadan, a time when we are all encouraged to draw nearer to Allah and the Holy Qur’an, we may be faced with our own human frailties that feel overwhelming. Many of us are likely struggling with trauma, sorrow, and sinking paralysis. Even in your brokenness, still pour out your heart to Allah and reach for the Qur’an, you too can find solace and in my case a reminder that resonates within.

Shifting over to the reflection: across the three surahs within this juz’ (Kahf, Maryam, and Ta-Ha), Allah recounts the stories of pious ancestors like Maryam, Dhul Qarnayn and several prophets (peace be upon them all). On first glance, it can be hard to keep all of the stories straight. For my reflection, I’ve selected two to focus on with the intent to inculcate some of their approaches into my practice from this Ramadan to the next. I chose Zakariyyah and Musa (peace be upon them). Both demonstrated certainty in pleading their cases to Allah.

 

This is a reminder of your Lord’s mercy to His servant Zakariyyah

when he cried out to his Lord privately

saying, “My Lord! Surely my bones have become brittle, and gray hair has spread across my head, but I have never been disappointed in my prayer to You, my Lord! — 19:2–4

Rugged individualism has been the West’s mantra. Over the course of my own life, I have been conditioned to do it myself or find a way myself. I suspect many Black women in particular share this experience. 

I am particularly moved by Zakariyyah stating that he has never been disappointed in his prayers to Allah. What a profound statement! It means that throughout the years of making du’a and seeking His countenance, Zakariyyah not only felt renewed by salah but also practiced gratitude and thanked His Lord for his station inside and outside of salah. To integrate aspects of his practice, I will need to deepen my devotion: prioritizing praying my salah instead of fitting it in, improving my focus/khushu, and extending that remembrance of Allah throughout my day. 

For Musa (peace be upon him), I’ve always admired his forthrightness in asking Allah for support with his mission: 

 

My Lord, Uplift my heart for me

Make my task easy…

And grant me a helper from my family

Harun, my brother

Strengthen me through him

And let him share my task

So that we may glorify you much

And remember you much. — 20:25–34

 

Admittedly, previously I interpreted it as a one-sided request, with Musa simply wanting someone to help shore him up. This time, I saw the request from a different angle. Musa’s request for help, him pleading his case is not a one-sided ask, but a way to broaden the blessing for his beloved brother. Help from Allah and being supported by his brother is enriching to both parties. That realization helped me to uncover a deeply held yet sabotaging value I hold: that asking for help is a sign of weakness. Rugged individualism has been the West’s mantra. Over the course of my own life, I have been conditioned to do it myself or find a way myself. I suspect many Black women in particular share this experience. 

Musa’s du’a shows that asking for help and, more importantly, receiving help are not signs of weakness but part of enriching the journey. How can I claim to trust in Allah and ask for His help, but deny the very vessels of that help? By denying my brethren and sistren from receiving their blessings for helping me, I am reinforcing shaytan’s denial and straying from the very fitra that started with Adam and Hawa. We were created in pairs; our very chromosomes are paired. Rugged individualism is an anathema to our very creation. 

Thank you Zakariyya and Musa for asking for help from Allah with unabashed certainty. Thank you Allah for removing the scales from my eyes. Help me to recognize and unlearn harmful practices by realigning with Allah-centered ones.

I invite you to start your own journey, read the stories of the beloved of Allah. Pause to reflect and note any parallels with your own lives. Identify a few practices that you can inculcate over the course of a year, beginning this Ramadan until the next. 

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