Ya Rabbi, If It’s Not Meant for Me, Let Me Stop Yearning for It

Ya Rabbi,

I don’t really know how to say this. I have been thinking about it for a while, and every time I try to put it into words, I feel like I am going in circles.

Maybe because I am.

I know You know what is best for me. I know that You see the beginning, the middle, and the end of every story while I am usually standing somewhere in the middle, trying to make sense of one little part of it.

I know all of this. I really do.

But Ya Allah, sometimes I still want it. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I ask You for something because I see it from where I am standing. It looks beautiful from here. Longing can be so convincing. It makes something feel like it belongs to you simply because you want it badly. Something that was never promised to you starts feeling like something you have been deprived of.

I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want to keep looking at what I don’t have and forget everything You have already given me, Ya Rabbi. I don’t want to become so attached to one particular outcome that I stop seeing Your mercy in every other direction.

But sometimes I do. Sometimes I get attached. Sometimes I want things to happen so badly that I forget that I am not the one writing the story. You are.

Ya Rabbi, I know You are Al-‘Alīm. You know what is behind every door. You know what happens if I walk through it. You know the things that will bring me closer to You and the things that might slowly take me away.

I don’t know any of that. I only know what I want right now.

Ya Rabbi, I think what scares me most is not that I won’t get what I want. It is that I will keep wanting it. That I will keep waking up with the same longing. That I will keep imagining it. That I will keep wondering if maybe something will change. That I will keep asking You for something that may never be mine. I don’t want that.

I don’t want to spend so much time staring at one closed door that I miss the life You are putting in front of me. I don’t want to be so busy mourning what You did not give me that I forget to thank You for what You did.

But Ya Allah, how do I stop wanting something?

How do I tell my heart, “This may not be yours” when my heart has already imagined a whole life around it? How do I let go of something that has never technically been mine but somehow feels like a loss? How do I mourn a future that never happened?

Ya Rabbi, if it is not meant for me, let me stop yearning for it. And if I keep turning back, gently turn my face toward what You have placed ahead of me.

Ya Rabbi, You are Al-Fattāh. You open what I cannot open. And I know that a closed door does not mean there are no doors left for me. Maybe it just means not this one. You are Al-‘Alīm. You know better.

Ya Rabbi, if an opportunity will take me away from You, let me be okay when it passes me by. And if I have to cry over it, let me cry to You.

And please make me notice the small things. The quiet blessings. The things I once prayed for that are now so normal that I barely think about them. Let me notice You in all of it.

And Ya Allah, if one day You give me the thing I am asking for, let me never forget that it came from You. Let me not become attached to the blessing and forget the One who gave it. Let it bring me closer to You. Let it have barakah. Let it be good for my dunya and my akhirah.

And if You don’t give it to me, then please give me something else. Not necessarily another version of what I wanted. Not necessarily something bigger.

Just give me peace. Give me contentment. Give me a heart that can say Alhamdulillah without needing to know why. Give me a heart that trusts You even when it does not understand.

So Ya Rabbi, if it is good for me, bring it with ease and barakah. But if it is not meant for me, please take it out of my heart. Gently. Little by little. Until I can think of it without aching.

We often tell ourselves, “If something is meant for you, you will have it.” But sometimes, I think we forget that Allah’s response to our dua does not always look like the answer we imagined.

Allah swt says:

“Call upon Me; I will respond to you.”
{40:60}

He promises a response, but not necessarily the exact outcome we have pictured in our minds.

Allah is Al-Fattāh, the One who opens, but He is also Al-‘Alīm, the One who knows. He knows what is behind every door we ask Him to open. We only see what we want. He sees what it will lead to.

Allah swt tells us:

“Perhaps you like a thing and it is bad for you. Allah knows and you do not know.” {2:216}

So trusting Allah swt is not only trusting Him to open the door. It is also trusting Him with the decision of whether it should open at all.

If it opens, Alhamdulillah. If it stays closed, Alhamdulillah. And if it stays closed, Ya Rabbi, help my heart stop standing at the door. Help me stop yearning for what You have not written for me, and turn my heart gently toward what You have.