Who Do You Turn to First?

A few years ago, my husband and son attended a Muslim father-son camping trip. Within the first few hours of setting up camp, one of the younger boys, about 11 years old, disappeared. 

As the hours passed and the sun began its descent, the optimism of the fathers’ search group faltered. What started as a hopeful reassurance – “he couldn’t have wandered that far; we’ll find him”  – soon gave way to rising panic. Worst-case scenarios flooded the young boy’s father’s mind. He and a few of the other camp dads trekked deeper into the forest, silently but desperately praying for guidance. They flagged every hiker they passed, showing them pictures of the boy in hopes of a clue. Every hiker studied the image with concern, but shook their heads regretfully, promising to keep an eye out. 

After four long hours, the young boy suddenly stepped back into camp, looking a bit worse for wear, but otherwise unharmed. The fathers at the campsite immediately radioed the search group with the good news.

Emotional reunions followed, along with an urgent need to understand what had happened. To an attentive group of fathers and sons, the young boy – an avid nature lover – explained his disappearance. He had wandered off wanting to explore the lush surroundings, lost in his imagination, until he realized that he had lost his way. As the sky darkened, he grew afraid.

At that moment, he was inspired to repeat the dhikr, “Ya Khayrul Nasireen,” (Oh Best of Helpers). He said it over and over again until a small group of chirping birds suddenly appeared above him. The birds remained circling overhead, as if waiting for him to follow them. The boy, uncertain but hopeful, took their lead. Eventually, the birds led the boy to a stream, which led him back to the main trail, which then led him back to the camp.

When I heard this story from the boy and his father after camp, I couldn’t forget it. To me, it was an undeniable manifestation of the Quranic verse:

“Those to whom hypocrites said, “Indeed, the people have gathered against you, so fear them.” But it [merely] increased them in faith, and they said, “Sufficient for us is Allah, and [He is] the best Disposer of affairs.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran: 3;173]

What Do We Turn to First?

As human beings, we crave connection. And what we connect to – habitually, instinctively – shapes the journey of our well-being. Habit or environment conditions some of us turn to machines for distraction or comfort, trained by the rhythms of modern life to seek solace in the familiar glow of the screen. Others, shaped by social and emotional reinforcement, turn to human relationships, leaning on community or companionship to navigate life’s difficulties. 

“What we cultivate as our first instinct in times of uncertainty, determines the presence of inner peace and depth of our contentment.” [PC: Visual Karsa (unsplash)]

Yet some of us are guided to turn to Allah first, trained through spiritual practice, remembrance (

Each response has its place, but what we cultivate as our first instinct in times of uncertainty, joy, or hardship determines the presence of inner peace and the depth of our resilience.

The quick comfort of machines depletes just as quickly, leaving one in greater need than before. The gift of social support helps tremendously, but not everyone has the privilege of a strong community or the presence of trusted companions. So, as a chaplain serving in a community setting, my goal remains clear: to (re)connect and redirect the careseeker to Allah first.

An immense honor exists in being entrusted with someone’s most vulnerable moments, in having them choose to share their burden with you when they could have turned elsewhere. The responsibility humbles me every time, yet also reminds me of my own limitations as a human being.

It took me years of training to let go of the instinct to fix people’s problems—an urge that, at first, felt like a necessary part of chaplaincy care. I only overcame this when I renewed, with deep certainty, the belief that only Allah is the One who fixes and heals. In that realization, I found immense relief — a liberation from a burden that was never mine to carry. With that freedom, my focus became clear: to help careseekers turn to Allah at the first sign of difficulty, not just for immediate relief, but to strengthen their connection with Him in a way that endures beyond the moment of crisis, ensuring that every hardship becomes a step closer to Him rather than a reason to turn away.

A careseeker once approached me, distressed over uncertainty in a friendship. She felt that her two friends were hiding something from her, and she longed for clear answers to help her decide whether to continue the friendship. She had exhausted all human avenues, asking common friends for insight, but no clarity came. She expressed feeling stuck, confused, and unsure how to move forward. 

After a conversation, I asked if she had heard of the du’a asking Allah for guidance through the manifestation of truth and falsehood. She vaguely remembered it but could not recall the exact wording. I sent it to her and encouraged her to say it whenever she felt stuck or lost: “O Allah! Show us the truth as truth, and inspire us to follow it. Show us falsehood as falsehood, and inspire us to abstain from it.” 

The very next day, she sent me a message: “Subhanallah how powerful du’a is.” 

She had discovered the truth – not through confrontation, not through pushing for answers, but through a series of internal nudges guiding her toward clarity. Rather than feel defeated at the discovery, she was occupied by the awe of the swift conclusion. Because while the resolution of a worldly problem brings short-term relief, what benefits us most in the long term—far beyond this life—is a deepened trust in and good opinion of Allah that carries us through the next crisis, and the next.

Ramadan: An Annual Training in Turning to Allah

Du’a (supplication) works. Dhikr (remembrance of God) works. Tawakul (trust in God’s Plan) works. Sabr (patience) works.

Turn to Allah at the first sign of difficulty. Pick up the Quran for comfort and guidance, and let Allah speak to you. 

Notably, the first Ramadan congregational prayer across the world begins with Surat al-Fatiha, wherein we recite,

“You alone we worship and You alone we ask for help” [1:5],

followed by the first words of Surat Al Baqarah:

“Alif. Lam. Meem. This is the Book! There is no doubt about it—a guide for those mindful of Allah” [2:1-2] 

Ramadan is called “the month of the Quran” [Surah Al-Baqarah: 2;185] as a gentle reminder that this blessed month remains more than a month of fasting – it is an annual training in centering the Quran in our lives. 

Fasting empties and purifies us during the day, preparing us to receive divine guidance at night. Just as our bodies crave sustenance by sunset, our souls crave the nourishment of the Quran. Fasting is a means, not the end goal of Ramadan. 

A person who has spent their life cultivating nearness to Allah does not wait until their final moments to seek Him—He has always been their companion. When Rabia al-Adawiyya (Iraqi Sufi poet and influential religious figure at the time) was on her deathbed, someone asked if she was happy to finally return to her Lord. She replied, “Oh fools, who do you think I’ve been spending my life with?” Such is the state of one whose connection to Allah is unbroken—who turns to Him first, in every moment, until meeting Him is not a departure, but a reunion.

One of the most profound habits we can cultivate is turning to Allah at the very first sign of difficulty. Ramadan serves as a reset button, a month-long exercise in seeking Him first – before distractions, before people, before comfort food. What if, instead of replaying our worries in our minds, we opened the Qur’an and let Allah speak to us? Many of us, when we were younger, had the simple faith to flip open the Qur’an at any page, searching for an answer—and somehow, the words we read always felt relevant. We didn’t overthink it; we just trusted that Allah would guide us. As we grew older, we may have lost that childlike certainty, but the reality remains: Allah is always speaking; we just have to be willing to listen.

The sooner we make it our instinct to seek Him, the more natural it becomes to walk through life—and beyond it—with an unshaken sense of trust, knowing He has always been there.

Related:

– Signs Of Allah Everywhere We Turn – An Invitation To Reflect

– A Ramadan Quran Journal: A MuslimMatters Series – [Juz 28] Complaining Only To Allah