In a country like Pakistan, where the majority are born Muslims, most of our interactions during university Dawah sessions are with individuals who already believe in Allah, His Oneness, and the Hereafter. Yet, despite this foundational belief, many still find themselves drifting away from remembrance.
We live in an era of hyperstimulation—a time of constant distractions, societal pressures, and emotional fatigue. These factors often cause the core truths of Islam to slip from the heart, even if they remain firmly rooted in the mind. People may know that Allah exists, they may even pray at times, but they still feel distant, disconnected, or numb.
However, there are exceptions. Every now and then, we come across individuals who openly identify as atheists. These conversations, though rare, are deeply insightful. Some of these individuals lack access to authentic Islamic knowledge, while others are heavily influenced by Western media narratives. A few have gone through severe personal hardships—moments when they cried out for divine help and, not seeing the outcome they hoped for, concluded that no god exists.
They often point to the suffering in Gaza, the global injustice, the cries of the oppressed, and ask:
If there is a God, why is there so much pain and destruction?
This is a crucial moment in the conversation. Our responsibility here is not to argue, but to engage with wisdom, compassion, and clarity.
Start by inviting them to reflect:
Do you think your phone—like the iPhone—came into existence by chance?
The answer is always no. They’ll acknowledge a company, a designer, a system.
Then ask:
“If something as limited as a phone needs a designer, how can the universe—with its vast galaxies, precise laws, oceans, mountains, and human complexity—come into existence without One?”
This analogy helps anchor belief in a Creator. From there, take the conversation deeper.
Talk about how every new phone model is adapted and improved—new features, better design. Human beings, too, are created with a built-in ability to adapt, evolve, and survive. Even scientific evidence—from geology and anthropology—shows that earlier civilizations had different body structures and survival needs. These changes reflect not randomness, but intelligent, divine design.
Now, returning to the Gaza question:
If Allah exists, why is there so much suffering?
Let me give a simple analogy.
Do dentists exist in Pakistan? Of course, they do. Yet, we still see people with dental issues—plaque, cavities, bad breath, misaligned teeth.But no one says, “Dentists don’t exist because dental problems still exist.”
The same applies to the presence of injustice and oppression in the world. The existence of suffering doesn’t mean Allah isn’t there. He has given some people free will and power—and sadly, some misuse it. But that doesn’t mean Allah is absent. His justice may not be immediate, but it is always perfect.
When Belief Exists, But the Heart Feels Distant
Now comes the second part of the discussion:
How do we deal with individuals who believe in Allah—but still feel disconnected from Him?
These are people who genuinely desire to fulfill their obligations. They want to pray. They long to feel Allah’s nearness. But something holds them back. A constant internal resistance. A distraction that fogs the mind and numbs the heart.
They crave the spiritual sweetness they hear others talk about. But they don’t feel it. And this disconnect leads to emotional fatigue, spiritual burnout, and at times, deep anxiety.
Eventually, the whispers begin:
“Maybe Allah doesn’t love me anymore…”
“Maybe I’ve been abandoned…”
If you feel this way—you are not alone. And more importantly, you are not forsaken.
Here are a few reasons why this disconnection happens in our age:
1. Hyperstimulation and Digital Overload
We live in an age of endless noise. Our senses are constantly bombarded—notifications, breaking news, Netflix trailers, social media reels. Even when we’re not interested, we feel compelled to check that ping or scroll one more post.
This constant stimulation robs us of stillness—the very silence our souls need to reconnect with our Creator. Spiritual reflection requires calm.
But how can we hear the whisper of our soul when the world is shouting?
2. The Culture of Instant Gratification
A deep connection with Allah doesn’t happen overnight. It requires patience, consistency, and grounding.
But we live in a fast-paced, dopamine-driven culture. Instant coffee. Instant noodles. Instant results.
Activities like gaming, binge-watching, and social scrolling flood the brain with dopamine—the pleasure hormone.
Over time, our brain’s neuroplasticity changes: we start craving quick highs, and lose interest in deeper, slower, and more meaningful acts—like prayer, Qur’an, or sincere du’a.
The result? We struggle to find peace in the very acts that nourish our soul.
3. The Modern Rat Race and Emotional Exhaustion
We’ve been conditioned to believe that success means money, productivity, grades, and busyness.
So we chase—From 9-to-5 jobs, family responsibilities, and social expectations—we become mentally and emotionally drained. In this constant hustle, we suppress the cries of our soul—cries that long to submit, to reflect, to worship.
Sadly, being a good employee or student is prioritized, while being a humble slave of Allah is pushed to the side.
Yet, deep within, the soul keeps whispering:
“Return to your Lord.”
Last but not the least:
Dear believer, if you find yourself in this state—don’t lose hope.
Your struggle is not a sign of weak faith. It’s a sign that your heart is still alive.
It’s still searching. It’s still longing. And that alone is a beautiful sign of Iman.
The journey back to Allah does not require a grand act.
It begins with awareness, followed by intention, and then one small, sincere action at a time.
Because Allah never abandons the heart that longs for Him.
