Prophet Musaموسى

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going... to the edge of a great sea. And something is about to happen there... that had never happened before... and has never happened since.

The water itself is going to stand up. Up... into two great walls... taller than houses... taller than trees... with a wide, dry path opening right down the middle of the sea.

And a whole people... mothers, fathers, children... are going to walk across the bottom of the ocean... all the way to freedom.

But how could such a thing ever happen? And who was the man... holding the wooden staff... that split the sea in two?

To understand... we have to rewind the whole story... right back to its very first day, to a tiny baby, hidden in a little basket, floating down a great river.

This is the story of Prophet Musa... alayhi salaam.

A long, long time ago... in the land of Egypt... there ruled a king. People called him Pharaoh. Fir'awn.

Fir'awn was powerful. His palace stretched along the great river Nile. His soldiers marched in golden armor. And Fir'awn... believed he was a god.

But he was not.

Fir'awn had heard a warning... that one day, a baby boy would be born among the Banī Isrā'īl... and that boy would grow up to end his rule.

So Fir'awn made a terrible command. Every baby boy born to the Banī Isrā'īl... would be taken away.

In one small house... beside the great river... a mother held her newborn son close to her chest. Her heart beat fast. The soldiers were searching house to house.

And then... Allāh inspired her heart.

"Place him in a basket... and put him in the river. Do not be afraid... and do not grieve. We will return him to you... and We will make him one of Our messengers."

Imagine her hands... trembling as she lowered that small basket into the water. Imagine her watching it drift away on the current. Imagine the silence... after.

But Allāh was watching too.

The basket floated... and floated... past reeds and palms... past fishing boats... until it came to rest at the edge of Fir'awn's own palace gardens.

And who found it?

Āsiya... the wife of Fir'awn. A woman with a kind, believing heart. She lifted the baby into her arms... and she loved him at once.

She turned to her husband and said... "Qurratu 'aynin lī wa lak. A delight to my eye, and to yours. Do not harm him. Perhaps he will benefit us... or we will take him as a son."

And just like that... in the very palace of the king who feared him... baby Musa was safe.

Now Musa cried for milk... but he would not drink from any of the women in the palace. So Allāh sent his sister... walking quietly through the palace... to suggest a nurse. "I know a woman who can feed him," she said.

That woman... was Musa's own mother.

And so Musa was returned to her arms. Just as Allāh had promised.

When you don't understand what's happening... remember this: Allāh sees what you cannot see. And His plan... is always more beautiful than ours.

Musa grew up... inside the palace of Fir'awn. He wore fine clothes. He learned to read. He grew strong and tall.

But in his heart... Musa knew he was not one of them. He knew his people, the Banī Isrā'īl, were suffering. They worked under the hot sun. They were beaten. They were not free.

One day... when Musa was a young man... he was walking through the city. And he saw two men fighting. One was an Egyptian... one was from the Banī Isrā'īl. The Egyptian was strong... and cruel.

Musa stepped in to help. He pushed the Egyptian away... harder than he meant to. And the man fell... and died.

Musa was shocked. He didn't mean to. It was an accident. But still... he had taken a life.

He raised his hands and said... "Rabbi innī ẓalamtu nafsī faghfir lī. My Lord, I have wronged myself. Forgive me."

And Allāh forgave him.

But the news spread fast. Fir'awn was furious. His soldiers came looking for Musa.

A kind man ran to warn him. "Musa... leave the city. Leave now. They are coming for you."

So Musa ran. He left the palace. He left Egypt behind. With nothing but the clothes he wore... and a heart full of trust... he walked... and walked... into the desert.

Musa walked for many days. The sun was hot. He was tired. He was thirsty. And he had nowhere to go.

Finally... he came to a small town called Madyan. By the well outside the town... a crowd of shepherds were watering their flocks. And standing back... were two young women... waiting their turn... unable to get close.

Musa walked over to them. Quietly. Respectfully.

"Why are you waiting?" he asked.

"Our father is old," they said. "We help him with the sheep. We will water our flock when the men leave."

Musa didn't say much. He just walked to the well... lifted the heavy bucket himself... and watered their sheep.

Then he went back under the shade of a tree. And he made a small, beautiful duʿā.

"Rabbi innī limā anzalta ilayya min khayrin faqīr. My Lord... I am in need of whatever good You send me."

He didn't ask for food. He didn't ask for a home. He just put his need in front of Allāh... and waited.

Soon... one of the daughters came back. Walking shyly. "My father invites you," she said. "He wants to thank you for helping us."

The father was a wise, righteous old man. Many scholars say he was Prophet Shuʿayb, alayhi salaam. He listened to Musa's story. He saw his honesty. And he made him an offer.

"Stay with us. Work with me for eight years... and if you complete ten, that's your kindness. Marry one of my daughters... and you will have a home."

Musa agreed.

For ten quiet years... Musa lived in Madyan. He took care of sheep. He prayed. He learned patience. He became a husband, and Allāh blessed him with a family.

The boy from the palace... was now a shepherd in the desert.

And Allāh... was preparing him.

After ten years... Musa decided it was time to return.

He missed his mother. He missed his people. So he packed his family... and they began the long journey back toward Egypt.

One cold night... they lost their way. The wind was sharp. The children were tired. Musa looked into the distance... and on the side of a mountain called Mount Tūr... he saw a fire.

"Stay here," he said gently. "I'll go and bring back a flame to warm us... or someone who knows the way."

He climbed toward the fire.

And as he came close... a voice. A voice unlike anything he had ever heard. Calling his name.

"Yā Mūsā... innī anā Allāhu rabbu-l-ʿālamīn."

"O Musa... I am Allāh, the Lord of the worlds."

Musa fell to his knees. The fire was not a fire. It was a sign.

Allāh spoke to him. Directly. With no veil between them.

"Musa," Allāh said. "Take off your sandals. You are in a sacred valley."

"I have chosen you. I will give you signs to show that you are My messenger."

"Throw down your staff."

Musa threw down his shepherd's staff... and it became a great serpent... moving across the sand. Musa stepped back, afraid.

"Pick it up, Musa. Do not be afraid. We will return it to what it was."

He picked it up... and it was a staff again.

"Now place your hand inside your cloak."

Musa did. And when he drew it out... his hand shone with a brilliant light. Pure. Radiant. White like the moon.

"Go, Musa. Go to Fir'awn. He has crossed all limits. Speak to him gently. Remind him of his Lord."

Musa's heart was heavy. "Yā Rabb..." he said. "My brother Hārūn speaks more clearly than I do. Send him with me. Strengthen me through him."

And Allāh said yes. Hārūn would be a prophet too. Together... two brothers... would stand before the most powerful king on earth.

Then Musa made the duʿā that every brave heart should learn.

"Rabbi-shraḥ lī ṣadrī... wa yassir lī amrī... waḥlul ʿuqdatan min lisānī... yafqahū qawlī."

"My Lord... open my chest... ease my task... untie the knot in my tongue... so they may understand my words."

And Allāh opened it all for him.

Musa and Hārūn walked into the throne room of Fir'awn.

Imagine the scene. Tall stone columns. Golden walls. Soldiers in rows. And on a high throne... Fir'awn himself. The man who had once held Musa as a baby. The man who now believed he was a god.

Two brothers. One staff. One message.

"Lā ilāha illā Allāh," Musa said. "There is no god but Allāh. Let our people, the Banī Isrā'īl, go free."

Fir'awn laughed.

He called for his magicians. The most powerful magicians in all of Egypt. "Show this man what real power looks like."

On the day of the contest... a huge crowd gathered. The magicians threw down their ropes and staves... and through their tricks, the ropes seemed to move like snakes. The crowd gasped.

Musa stood quietly. He held his staff. And in his heart, he heard Allāh's words. "Do not be afraid. You will be the highest."

Musa threw his staff.

And it became a serpent... a real one... not a trick. And it swallowed every rope, every staff, every illusion the magicians had made. The ground was clean. The truth was clear.

The magicians... the very men who had been called to defeat Musa... fell to the ground in sajdah. Together.

"We believe," they said. "We believe in the Lord of Musa and Hārūn. The Lord of all the worlds."

Fir'awn was shaking with rage. He threatened them with terrible punishments. But the magicians... who had spent their lives chasing tricks... had finally seen the truth.

And they did not turn back.

In one moment... they had become believers. And no king could take that away from them.

Years passed. Allāh sent sign after sign to Fir'awn. Floods. Locusts. Sicknesses. Each time, Fir'awn promised to listen... and each time, when the trouble passed, he broke his promise.

Finally... Allāh told Musa. "Take My servants. Travel by night. Leave Egypt."

Musa gathered the Banī Isrā'īl. Mothers, fathers, children, elders. And they walked out of Egypt under the stars... toward freedom.

But when Fir'awn heard... his anger boiled over.

He gathered his army. Chariots. Soldiers. Spears. And he chased them.

The Banī Isrā'īl reached the edge of the sea. Behind them... a cloud of dust... the army of Fir'awn closing in.

The people panicked. "We're trapped! They will catch us!"

But Musa was calm. His heart was full of trust.

"Kallā," he said. "Never. My Lord is with me. He will guide me."

Then Allāh spoke. "Strike the sea... with your staff."

Musa lifted his staff... the same staff he had used to herd sheep in Madyan... the same staff that had become a serpent before Fir'awn... and he struck the sea.

The water split.

It rose up on both sides like great walls. And between them... a wide, dry path opened across the seabed.

And there it is, little one... the two great walls of water... and the path down the middle of the sea. This is the very moment we came to see... right at the start of our story.

The Banī Isrā'īl ran across. Mothers carrying babies. Children holding hands. Elders being helped along. They crossed... and reached the other side... safe.

Fir'awn arrived at the edge of the sea. He saw the path. And his pride pushed him forward.

He charged in. His army followed.

And when they were all in the middle of the sea... Allāh let the walls of water fall back together.

Fir'awn cried out at the very last moment. "I believe! I believe in the God of the Banī Isrā'īl!"

But it was too late. He had spent his whole life refusing. A heart cannot be cleaned in one panicked breath at the end.

The man who had called himself a god... was no more.

And the Banī Isrā'īl... stood on the other shore... free for the first time. Their hearts overflowed with gratitude.

Allāh had done what no human could do. He had opened a sea... to make a way.

This last part of the story... is one of the most special.

Because even Musa... a great prophet of Allāh... had something more to learn.

One day, someone asked Musa, "Who is the most knowledgeable person in the world?"

And Musa answered honestly... "I am."

But Allāh gently corrected him. "There is a servant of Mine, far away, who knows things you do not know. Go and find him."

Musa was not upset. He set out at once... with a young companion... to find this teacher. They traveled and traveled... until they finally met him. A wise, quiet servant of Allāh. His name was Khidr.

"May I follow you?" Musa asked. "May I learn from what Allāh has taught you?"

Khidr looked at him kindly. "You will not be able to be patient with me."

"In shā Allāh," Musa said. "You will find me patient."

"Then come," Khidr said. "But ask me no questions... until I explain."

So they walked. Together.

Soon they came to a small fishing boat. The owners gave them a free ride across the water. And in the middle of the sea... Khidr quietly damaged a part of the boat.

Musa was shocked. "Why did you do that? These people helped us!"

Khidr looked at him. "Did I not tell you... you would not be able to be patient?"

Musa was sorry. "I forgot. Please don't leave me. Let me try again."

They walked on. Past villages. Past hills. And then they saw a young boy... playing in the distance.

And Khidr... did something Musa could not understand. The boy passed away.

Musa was upset. "Why? He was a child!"

"Did I not tell you," Khidr said softly, "that you would not be able to be patient?"

Musa lowered his head. "One more chance. If I ask again... you can leave me."

They walked into a tired, hungry town. They asked for food. The townspeople refused. The two travelers walked through the streets, their stomachs empty.

And as they were leaving... Khidr stopped beside an old wall... that was leaning, about to fall. And he fixed it. Carefully. With his own hands.

Musa shook his head. "These people refused to feed us... and you fix their wall for free? At least you could have asked for payment."

Khidr looked at him gently. "This is where we part. But before I go... let me explain everything."

"The boat... belonged to poor fishermen. There was a king ahead who was taking every good boat by force. I made a small hole in it... so the king would pass it by. And the fishermen would still have their living."

"The boy... Allāh knew that if he grew up, he would bring great pain to his parents who loved Allāh. So Allāh, in His mercy, took him gently... and Allāh will give that family another child... a child who will grow up loving Allāh."

"And the wall... underneath that wall is a treasure. It belongs to two orphan children in this town. Their father was a righteous man. Allāh wanted the wall to stay strong... so when the children grow up, they will dig and find what is theirs."

Musa was silent.

Each thing he had judged as wrong... was, in truth, mercy. Mercy he could not see. Mercy hidden inside what looked painful.

Khidr smiled. "I did not do any of this on my own. Allāh commanded it."

And then he was gone.

Musa stood there... and the lesson sank deep into his heart.

Sometimes... Allāh allows things in our lives we don't understand. A friend who moves away. A toy that breaks. A day that doesn't go the way we wanted. A plan that falls apart.

We see only the front of the picture. Allāh sees the whole picture.

And one day... maybe in this life, maybe in the next... we will see what He saw all along. And we will say... "Subḥān Allāh. He was being kind to me, even then."

That is why we say... "Alḥamdulillāh ʿalā kulli ḥāl." All praise belongs to Allāh, in every state.

Musa, the prophet who spoke with Allāh on the mountain... still had something to learn. And he learned it with humility.

So can we.

And now... slowly... we leave that long-ago world behind... and travel back... all the way home. To right here. Right now.

But remember this, little one. The same Allāh who heard a frightened mother by the river... who guided a little basket through the water... who split the whole sea to make a way... who opened the heart of a young magician... who taught patience even to a great prophet...

that same Allāh... is watching over you... right now.

He hears your prayers. He knows your worries. And He has plans for you... more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

So wherever you are today... whenever something feels hard, or scary... or you just cannot see the way ahead... you can say what Musa said, standing before the sea. It means... my Lord is with me... and He will guide me.

*Inna maʿiya Rabbī... sayahdīn.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going to the land of Egypt... to a small house... beside a great and mighty river.

And here we are.

It is quiet inside this little house. But listen... out in the streets, there are soldiers. Because this land is ruled by a proud and frightened king... a king called Fir'awn... who believed he was a god.

Fir'awn had heard a warning: that one day, a baby boy from the Banī Isrā'īl would grow up... and end his rule. So he made a terrible command. Every baby boy born to the Banī Isrā'īl... would be taken away.

And here, in this small house by the river... a mother is holding her newborn son close to her chest.

She could hear the soldiers in the streets. She could hear the crying of other mothers.

And then... in the quiet of her heart... Allāh inspired her.

"Place him in a basket... and put him in the river. Do not be afraid... and do not grieve. We will return him to you... and We will make him one of Our messengers."

Imagine her hands... shaking as she wove the basket. Imagine her tears... as she lifted her tiny son inside. Imagine her standing at the edge of the water... letting go.

The basket drifted... and drifted... down the great river. Past reeds and palms. Past fishing boats. Past Egyptian soldiers who never even looked.

Because Allāh was guiding it.

The basket came to rest... at the edge of Fir'awn's own palace gardens.

And who found it?

Āsiya. The wife of Fir'awn. A woman with a kind, believing heart.

She lifted the baby into her arms. And in that moment... she loved him.

She turned to her husband and said... "Qurratu ʿaynin lī wa lak. A delight to my eye, and to yours. Do not harm him. Perhaps he will benefit us... or we will take him as a son."

And Fir'awn... the man who had ordered the death of every baby boy... agreed to keep this one.

Now baby Musa cried for milk. But he would not drink from any of the women in the palace.

So Allāh sent his sister... walking quietly into the palace... to suggest a nurse. "I know a woman who can feed him," she said.

That woman... was Musa's own mother.

And so Musa was placed back into her arms. To be raised. To be loved. To be safe.

Just as Allāh had promised.

Allāh says in the Qur'ān... "And We returned him to his mother, that her eye might be comforted... and that she might not grieve... and that she might know that the promise of Allāh is true."

And now... slowly... we leave that little house by the river... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry Musa's mother with you, wherever you go. Whenever something feels scary... whenever you don't know what to do... remember how she placed her trust in Allāh... and how Allāh never, ever let her go.

Because Allāh sees what you cannot see. And His plan for you... is more beautiful than anything you could ever imagine.

So carry these words with you. They mean... Allah is enough for me... there is no god but Him... upon Him I put my trust.

*Ḥasbiya-llāhu... lā ilāha illā Huwa... ʿalayhi tawakkalt.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going back to the land of Egypt... to a mighty palace of golden walls and tall stone columns... beside a great river.

And here we are.

This is the palace of the king, Fir'awn. And growing up inside it... is a young man named Musa, alayhi salaam. He wears fine clothes. He has learned to read. He has grown strong and tall.

But in his heart... Musa knew he was not one of them.

He knew his people, the Banī Isrā'īl, were suffering. They worked under the hot sun, building palaces of stone. They were beaten. They were not free.

One day... when Musa was a young man... he was walking through the city. And he saw two men fighting.

One was an Egyptian. One was from the Banī Isrā'īl. The Egyptian was strong... and cruel.

Musa stepped in to help. He pushed the Egyptian away... harder than he meant to. And the man fell... and did not get up again.

Musa was shocked. He did not mean to. It was an accident.

But still... a life had been taken.

Musa raised his hands. And he made a beautiful duʿā.

"Rabbi innī ẓalamtu nafsī faghfir lī."

"My Lord... I have wronged myself. Forgive me."

And Allāh... the Most Merciful... forgave him.

But the news spread fast. Fir'awn was furious. His soldiers came looking for Musa.

A kind man... someone who believed in Allāh in secret... ran to warn him. "Musa... leave the city. Leave now. They are coming for you."

So Musa ran.

He left the palace. He left the only home he had ever known. With nothing but the clothes on his back... and a heart full of trust... he walked... and walked... into the desert.

And as he walked... he made another duʿā.

"Rabbi najjinī minal-qawmi-ẓ-ẓālimīn."

"My Lord... save me from these wrongdoing people."

Allāh heard him.

And now... slowly... we leave the palace and the long desert road behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry this with you, wherever you go. Sometimes we make mistakes. Sometimes we hurt someone, even when we don't mean to. Sometimes we feel small... and afraid. And in those moments... you can do just what Musa did. Turn to Allah. Say sorry. And ask Him for help.

Because Allah is the One who forgives. He is the One who listens. And no matter where you are... He is closer to you than your very own breath.

So carry Musa's words with you. They mean... my Lord... I have wronged myself... so forgive me.

*Rabbi innī ẓalamtu nafsī... faghfir lī.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going out into the desert... to a well beside a little town called Madyan... in the land we now call Jordan.

And here we are.

Feel the hot desert sun on your shoulders. And the dry, dusty road beneath your feet. For a young man named Musa, alayhi salaam, had walked for many, many days to get here. He had run all the way from Egypt. He was tired. He was thirsty. And he had nowhere in the whole world to go.

By the well outside the town... a crowd of shepherds were watering their flocks. Loud men. Pushing each other. Their sheep drinking from the trough.

And standing back... away from the crowd... were two young women. Waiting their turn. Holding back their thirsty flock.

Quiet. Modest. Unable to get close.

Musa walked over to them. Respectfully.

"Why are you waiting?" he asked.

"Our father is old," they said. "We help him with the sheep. We will water our flock when the men leave."

Musa didn't say much.

He just walked to the well... lifted the heavy bucket himself... and watered their sheep for them.

Then he went back. Under the shade of a tree. Tired. Hungry. Alone.

And in that quiet moment... he made one of the most beautiful duʿās in the whole Qur'ān.

"Rabbi innī limā anzalta ilayya min khayrin faqīr."

"My Lord... I am in need of whatever good You send me."

He didn't ask for food. He didn't ask for a home. He didn't ask for a family.

He just placed his need... in front of Allāh... and waited.

Soon... one of the daughters came back. Walking shyly toward him.

"My father invites you," she said. "He wants to thank you for helping us."

The father was a wise, righteous old man. Many scholars say he was Prophet Shuʿayb, alayhi salaam.

He listened to Musa's story. He saw his honesty. He saw his strong hands and his trustworthy heart.

And one of his daughters said something simple and true. "Father... hire him. The best worker is one who is strong... and trustworthy."

So the old man made Musa an offer.

"Stay with us. Work with me for eight years... and if you complete ten, that's your kindness. Marry one of my daughters... and you will have a home."

Musa agreed.

For ten quiet years... Musa lived in Madyan. He took care of sheep. He prayed. He learned patience.

He became a husband. Allāh blessed him with a family.

The boy from the palace... was now a shepherd in the desert.

And Allāh... was preparing him for something far greater.

And now... slowly... we leave the well, and the little town of Madyan, behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry this with you, wherever you go. When you help someone... when you do something kind without being asked... Allah sees it all. And one small kindness... can open doors you never even knew were there.

And whenever you are in need of something... you can whisper Musa's dua, the one he made under the tree. It means... my Lord... I am in need of whatever good You send down to me.

*Rabbi innī limā anzalta ilayya min khayrin faqīr.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going to a lonely mountainside... on a cold, dark night... in a sacred valley called Tuwa, beside a mountain called Mount Tūr.

And here we are.

Feel the cold night wind. See how dark it is... and how the whole sky is scattered with stars. A family is travelling here, lost in the dark, searching for the way. And leading them... is a shepherd named Musa, alayhi salaam... journeying home, at last, toward Egypt.

And then... far off, on the side of the mountain... Musa sees something. A small, warm flicker of light.

A fire.

"Stay here," he said gently. "I'll go and bring back a flame to warm us... or someone who knows the way."

He climbed toward the fire. Step by step. Up the rocky path.

And as he came close... a voice. A voice unlike anything he had ever heard. Calling his name.

"Yā Mūsā..."

"Innī anā Allāhu rabbu-l-ʿālamīn."

"O Musa... I am Allāh, the Lord of the worlds."

Musa fell to his knees.

The fire was not a fire. It was a sign.

Allāh was speaking to him. Directly. With no veil between them.

"Musa," Allāh said. "Take off your sandals. You are in a sacred valley."

"I have chosen you. I will give you signs to show that you are My messenger."

"Throw down your staff."

Musa threw down the same shepherd's staff he had carried for ten years... and it became a great serpent... moving across the sand. Musa stepped back, afraid.

"Pick it up, Musa. Do not be afraid. We will return it to what it was."

He picked it up... and it was a staff again.

"Now place your hand inside your cloak."

Musa did. And when he drew it out... his hand shone with a brilliant light. Pure. Radiant. White like the moon.

"Go, Musa. Go to Fir'awn. He has crossed all limits. Speak to him gently. Remind him of his Lord."

Musa's heart was heavy. He felt small. He had a stutter when he spoke. And Fir'awn was the most powerful king on earth.

So he made a duʿā.

"Rabbi-shraḥ lī ṣadrī... wa yassir lī amrī... waḥlul ʿuqdatan min lisānī... yafqahū qawlī."

"My Lord... open my chest. Ease my task. Untie the knot in my tongue. So they may understand my words."

And Allāh opened it all for him.

He sent Musa's brother Hārūn with him too. Two prophets. Two brothers. To walk into the throne room of the most powerful king on earth.

And now... slowly... we climb back down the mountain... leaving the fire and the starry night behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry this with you, wherever you go. Sometimes Allah asks us to do things that feel too big... too scary... too hard. But Allah never, ever asks for more than He gives. So whenever something feels too big for you... you can whisper the same dua Musa whispered, there on the mountain.

It means... my Lord... open up my heart... and make my task easy... and untie the knot in my tongue... so that others understand me.

*Rabbi-shraḥ lī ṣadrī... wa yassir lī amrī... waḥlul ʿuqdatan min lisānī.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going into a mighty throne room... in the land of Egypt... the grandest room you have ever seen.

And here we are.

Look up at the tall stone columns. See the golden walls, shining in the torchlight. Soldiers stand in long, still rows. And there, high up on a golden throne... sits the most powerful king on all the earth. Fir'awn.

And walking in now... to stand before him... are two brothers. Two prophets. Musa, and his brother Hārūn, alayhima salaam.

Two brothers. One staff. One message.

"Lā ilāha illā Allāh," Musa said. "There is no god but Allāh. Let our people, the Banī Isrā'īl, go free."

Fir'awn laughed.

"You? A man I once held as a baby... now telling me what to do?"

He called for his magicians. The most powerful magicians in all of Egypt.

"Show this man," he said, "what real power looks like."

A day was set. A great contest. The whole city would watch.

On the day of the contest... a huge crowd gathered. Egyptians. Nobles. Soldiers. Everyone wanted to see.

The magicians stepped forward. They threw down their ropes and staves. And through their tricks... the ground seemed to fill with snakes. Twisting. Hissing. Moving everywhere.

The crowd gasped.

Musa stood quietly.

He held his staff. And in his heart, he heard Allāh's words. "Do not be afraid. You will be the highest."

Musa threw his staff.

And it became a serpent. A real one. Not a trick.

And it swallowed every rope... every staff... every illusion the magicians had made.

The ground was clean. The truth was clear.

And then something amazing happened.

The magicians... the very men who had been called to defeat Musa... fell to the ground in sajdah. Together.

"We believe," they said. "We believe in the Lord of Musa and Hārūn. The Lord of all the worlds."

Fir'awn was shaking with rage.

"How dare you believe without my permission!"

He threatened them with terrible punishments. He told them he would harm them.

But the magicians... who had spent their whole lives chasing tricks... had finally seen the truth.

And they did not turn back.

They said... "Do whatever you wish. We will not give up our faith. We turn to Allāh."

In one moment... they had become believers.

And no king on earth... could take that away from them.

And now... slowly... we leave that grand throne room behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry this with you, wherever you go. Sometimes the truth is right there in front of us. And it takes courage to say... "Yes. I believe." The magicians woke that morning hoping to win money and fame. By the evening... they had become some of the most beloved believers in all of history. That is what one moment of courage can do.

Because Allah sees the heart. And Allah rewards every honest step toward Him.

So carry these words with you... the very words the magicians said, when they saw the truth. They mean... there is no god but Allah.

*Lā ilāha illā Allāh.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going to the edge of a great, dark sea... at night... a long, long time ago.

And here we are.

Stand here on the shore, little one, and look. In front of you... deep, dark water, stretching as far as your eyes can see. No boats. No bridge. No way across at all.

And behind you... listen... the thunder of an army. Chariots. Soldiers. Racing closer... and closer... through the dark.

Trapped here, between the deep sea and the racing army, are the Banī Isrā'īl, a whole people, mothers and fathers and little children, who have just escaped, at last, from the cruel king of Egypt. And leading them... is Prophet Musa, alayhi salaam.

For years, that proud king had refused to set them free. But in the dark of night, they slipped away... and now his army is chasing them... all the way to the edge of the sea.

The people panicked. "We're trapped! They will catch us!"

But Musa was calm. His heart was full of trust.

"Kallā," he said. "Never. Innā maʿiya rabbī sa-yahdīn. My Lord is with me. He will guide me."

Then Allāh spoke.

"Strike the sea... with your staff."

Musa lifted his staff. The same staff he had used to herd sheep in Madyan. The same staff that had become a serpent before Fir'awn.

And he struck the sea.

The water split.

It rose up on both sides like great walls of water. Towering. Trembling. Held in place by the command of Allāh.

And between them... a wide, dry path opened across the seabed.

The Banī Isrā'īl ran across.

Mothers carrying babies. Children holding hands. Elders being helped along.

They crossed... and reached the other side... safe.

Then Fir'awn arrived at the edge of the sea.

He saw the path. He saw the walls of water. And his pride pushed him forward.

He charged in. His army followed.

And when they were all in the middle of the sea... Allāh let the walls of water fall back together.

Fir'awn cried out at the very last moment. "I believe! I believe in the God of the Banī Isrā'īl!"

But it was too late.

A heart cannot be cleaned in one panicked breath at the end. He had spent his whole life refusing.

The man who had called himself a god... was no more.

And the Banī Isrā'īl... stood on the other shore... free for the first time. Their hearts overflowed with gratitude.

Allāh had done what no human could do. He had opened a sea... to make a way.

And now... slowly... we leave that great sea behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

But carry this with you, wherever you go. Sometimes life feels like that moment at the edge of the sea. Something behind us we're afraid of... and in front of us, we just cannot see how it will all work out. And in those very moments... you can say what Musa said. Because Allah always, always makes a way... even when the way looks impossible.

So carry Musa's words with you. They mean... my Lord is with me... and He will guide me.

*Inna maʿiya Rabbī... sayahdīn.*

Come with me. Today, we're going on a journey... far, far away... and long, long ago.

We're going on a journey... one of the most special journeys in the whole Quran. A journey about patience... and about Allah's hidden plan.

And here we are.

Walking here beside you is someone you already know. It is Prophet Musa, alayhi salaam, the great prophet who spoke with Allah on the mountain. And yet... even Musa... a mighty prophet... still had something to learn. Let me show you how.

One day, someone asked him... "Who is the most knowledgeable person in the world?"

And Musa answered honestly. "I am."

But Allāh gently corrected him.

"There is a servant of Mine, far away, who knows things you do not know. Go and find him."

Musa was not upset. He was a prophet... but he was also humble.

He set out at once. With a young companion. To find this teacher.

They traveled and traveled... until they finally met him. A wise, quiet servant of Allāh. His name was Khidr.

"May I follow you?" Musa asked. "May I learn from what Allāh has taught you?"

Khidr looked at him kindly.

"Innaka lan tastaṭīʿa maʿiya ṣabran. You will not be able to be patient with me."

"In shā Allāh," Musa said. "You will find me patient. I will not disobey you."

"Then come," Khidr said. "But ask me no questions... until I explain."

So they walked. Together.

Soon they came to a small fishing boat. The owners gave them a free ride across the water.

And in the middle of the sea... Khidr quietly damaged a part of the boat.

Musa was shocked. "Why did you do that? These people helped us!"

Khidr looked at him. "Did I not tell you... you would not be able to be patient?"

Musa was sorry. "I forgot. Please don't leave me. Let me try again."

They walked on.

Past villages. Past hills. And then... near a small road... Allāh's plan unfolded again. A young boy passed away.

Musa was upset. "Why? He was a child!"

"Did I not tell you," Khidr said softly, "that you would not be able to be patient?"

Musa lowered his head. "One more chance. If I ask again... you can leave me."

They walked into a tired, hungry town. They asked for food. The townspeople refused. The two travelers walked through the streets, their stomachs empty.

And as they were leaving... Khidr stopped beside an old wall... that was leaning, about to fall.

And he fixed it. Carefully. With his own hands. Without asking for anything.

Musa shook his head. "These people refused to feed us... and you fix their wall for free? At least you could have asked for payment."

Khidr looked at him gently.

"This is where we part. But before I go... let me explain everything."

"The boat... belonged to poor fishermen. There was a king ahead who was taking every good boat by force. I made a small hole in it... so the king would pass it by. And the fishermen would still have their living."

"The boy... Allāh knew that if he grew up, he would bring great pain to his parents who loved Allāh. So Allāh, in His mercy, took him gently. And Allāh will give that family another child... a child who will grow up loving Allāh."

"And the wall... underneath that wall is a treasure. It belongs to two orphan children in this town. Their father was a righteous man. Allāh wanted the wall to stay strong... so when the children grow up, they will dig... and find what is theirs."

Musa was silent.

Each thing he had judged as wrong... was, in truth, mercy. Mercy he could not see. Mercy hidden inside what looked painful.

Khidr smiled. "I did not do any of this on my own. Allāh commanded it."

And then he was gone.

Musa stood there... and the lesson sank deep into his heart.

Little one... sometimes Allāh allows things in our lives we don't understand.

A friend who moves away. A toy that breaks. A day that doesn't go the way we wanted. A plan that falls apart.

We see only the front of the picture.

Allāh sees the whole picture.

And one day... maybe in this life... maybe in the next... we will see what He saw all along.

And we will say... "Subḥān Allāh. He was being kind to me, even then."

And if even Musa... a mighty prophet... still had something to learn about patience... then so do we. And that is perfectly okay.

And now... slowly... we leave that long-ago road behind... and travel back home. To right here. Right now.

So carry these words with you, little one... for every kind of day, the happy ones, and the hard ones too. They mean... all praise belongs to Allah... in every single state.

*Alḥamdulillāhi... ʿalā kulli ḥāl.*