Few of us wake up in the morning imagining that this could be the last day of our life on Earth. And yet it might perhaps be beneficial to imagine it from time to time, just to put our priorities back in order. What if each of us did this little exercise today? Not in order to remain paralyzed, saddened at leaving everything behind, but rather to see whether our day would unfold in the same way.
I attempt, in all humility, the test. And I make myself the promise to try to reach even half of this ideal… even though I am still far from it…
First resolution
If I had learned that today would be my last day on Earth, first I would have started by saying "bismiLlah" to reap all of Allah's barakah in each of my actions, and I would have invoked Him by His most beautiful Names so that He grant me sincerity and humility throughout the day, and that He accept my actions, as well as those of all Muslims.
It’s such a simple thing, but in normal times we forget it so much. This little word: bismiLah! At every moment, before every action.
Fasting and prayer: the rest of the soul
And I would have decided to fast, that day.
I would have thanked Allah for not having taken back my soul the night before, full of heedlessness, and I would have recited the invocation of waking, and clothed myself in my biggest and most beautiful smile. I would have asked myself what I could do today to draw a little closer to Allah, and I would have started by performing my major ablutions. I would have rubbed a miswak stick on my teeth, and dressed in my finest clothes before perfuming myself… to pray.
To pray while forgetting everything around me.
Articulating each letter of the verses of the Quran recited and imagining them coming out of the mouth of the Prophet Muhammad, may the Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him. I would have bowed with humility, surrendering myself to the greatness of Allah, until I felt peace in my heart. I would have risen with even more humility, feet anchored to the ground, head lowered, praising Allah for His perfection. I would have raised my arms declaring His greatness, Allahu Akbar, before prostrating slowly. When my forehead touched the ground, my eyes would have begun to soak the front of the prayer rug. Tears of submission, of thanksgiving, of love, and of repentance.
I would have thanked Allah for having created me, for having fed me, given me drink, clothed me, protected me, and for having granted me the love and support of my family throughout all these years. I would have asked Him forgiveness for all the people I had judged, all the evil I had suspected, all the jealousy or pride I might have felt, all the harm I had done to my soul and to every human being, and all the ingratitude in which I had lived. I would have begged Allah to forgive me for every injustice I had committed, and for not having worshipped and thanked Him as He deserved. For every time I had complained about something while I had not finished thanking Him for all the blessings He poured upon me each day.
I would have remained on my rug after the final salutation, evoking the Perfection of Allah, and thanking Him for everything He had granted me on earth while He had deprived billions of it.
I would have prolonged this intimate moment with Allah by reading His word like a farewell letter.
And I would have prayed, that day, every supererogatory prayer that the Prophet used to perform during the day, if Allah had permitted me.
Good conduct: proof of love toward Allah and one’s neighbor
That day, I would not have worried about the people who had not replied to my messages, and I would not have taken offense. If no one had asked after me, I would have asked after them anyway, without holding anything in my heart.
I would have smiled at criticism and laughed at insults.
I would not have noticed the jostling on the bus and would have had no qualms about refusing any activity or outing proposed close to the prayer times.
That day, I would have given money to all the beggars who might have crossed my path. I would not have filled my belly, even if I had been served the finest gourmet dishes on Earth.
I would have refused no service, no matter how little regard with which it had been requested. I would have volunteered for all the tasks that no one wanted to do and would not have parted with my smile.
I would have thanked my parents, my brothers and sisters, my friends, and my neighbors for every smile, every compliment, every piece of advice, every moment they had granted me. I would have listened to my mother for an hour and a half without interrupting her a single time, smiling from the bottom of my heart, admiring her features and her smile. I would have made her laugh by telling her her favorite joke, and would have kissed her.
I would have rested my cheek against my father’s shoulder, asking him to tell me about his youth and savoring the expression of pride he would have felt in recounting his early years to me, one by one. Without tiring of it.
I would have cooked my parents’ favorite dish without them asking me to, with all the love I could put into it. And if Allah had permitted me, my tongue would not have ceased to glorify and praise Him while preparing the meal, as well as throughout the day.
That day, I would have done everything for Allah without expecting thanks, respect, or kindness from anyone. I would have given everything without expecting anything in return.
That day, I would have reproached no one, and would not have been annoyed by anyone’s behavior. That day, I would have been the easiest to live with.
If someone had come to complain to me about a trial they were going through, I would have sympathized, and reassured them by telling them that every sorrow has an end. I would have told them that now, knowing that death awaited me at the end of this day, I could not remember a single trial and that no suffering seemed to me to have been lived. I would have told them to invoke Allah so that He make them stronger and purify their soul and their heart. I would have told them that it was preferable that the Almighty change them rather than the situation they were living. I would have told them that the purpose of a trial is to lead us to become a better person and to acquire qualities we did not have within us, that this world would end up being destroyed and that nothing of it would remain one day.
That would have been the only thing I would have worried about, that day: my soul. My heart. Would they have been pure enough to deserve the eternal rest that Allah promises us in Palaces of Crystal?
That day, I would have judged no one. Not even in thought.
Good assumption: the peace of the soul
If I had heard evil about a person, I would have defended them by affirming that Allah alone could know whether what was reported was true, and even if it were, I would have sat down to look for 70 good reasons why they might have acted that way.
If I had seen a person’s malice with my own eyes, I would have remembered the good in them, and told myself that Allah was capable of making their descendants a pious family.
If I had been wronged that day, I would have smiled, and told the person that I sincerely forgive them. Because the Hereafter would have been too present in my mind that day for me to worry about the harm done to me, or about what so-and-so might have said about me. And because one never regrets having been too kind on one’s deathbed, I would have asked all my relatives and friends to forgive me, for every hurtful or irritating word I might have said, for all the times I had rolled my eyes, sighed with annoyance, or cast a dark look of anger. For all the times I had complained about anyone or anything; for all the times I had wanted to prove to the other that I was right during a debate, or that I had refused to apologize out of pride; for all the times I had reported the bad behavior someone had shown toward me and that this had changed the way people saw them.
I would have asked my parents’ forgiveness for all the weariness I showed on my face when they told me a story that was too long, or when they repeated the same speeches over and over. I would have seen the wisdom in all the advice they had given me and that I refused to hear.
I would have listed their qualities and would have seen that they far surpassed their faults.
That day, I would not have dwelt on anyone’s fault, as I hope that Allah will not dwell on mine at the Last Judgment. And besides, I do not think I would have noticed anyone’s faults that day.
I would have made sure that each member of my family felt understood, loved, listened to. I would have made sure to give all the attention that each of them needed so that they all felt happy.
The Quran: true source of tranquility
I would have reviewed my Quran, making sure it was engraved within me, and would sincerely prepare myself for the moment when the Angels would call my name so that I would go stand before my Lord, to recite His words to Him.
That day, I would not have complained about not having traveled enough, or that my parents had been too strict in my youth.
That day, I would not have complained about the heat or the cold, nor the humidity or the wind. I would not have complained about a migraine, or the noise of the neighbors.
I would not have complained about the state of the Ummah, nor about the Muslims in France or the image that some conveyed of Islam.
In fact, I would not have had the desire to complain about anything, so much would I have understood and felt all the blessings I had been able to live through in these situations, by reading the Word of Allah; so much would the size of my grave have preoccupied me from morning to night.
Besides, in the early evening, I would have remembered to break my fast by drinking a sip of water at the time of Maghrib. While waiting for the ‘isha prayer, I would have prayed, to confide my fears to Allah, and to hear His words once more while reciting them.
I would have known throughout this day that I was performing these acts of worship and good deeds to draw closer to Allah, with the aim that He love me, and I would have sincerely admitted that they could never make me enter Paradise except with Allah’s permission to enter it. It would only be by His mercy, and I would have acknowledged it and would have wept.
I would have recited the surahs Al Mulk and As-Sajda before sleeping, thinking of our beloved Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, reciting them alongside ‘Aisha in Medina, and I would surely have felt the regret of not having deserved to see him in a dream at least once in my life.
The remembrance of Allah until the last breath
Then I would have lain down. I would very quickly have remembered that I would not wake up the next day, so I would have gotten up to pray until fatigue could overcome my legs and my voice.
I would have begged Allah again and again to forgive me, as well as all my family. I would have begged Allah to grant patience to my family when they would understand that He had taken back my soul, and I would have asked Him to replace my presence for them with His nearness.
Lying on my right side, I would have wondered whether I had made the most of this last day that Allah had granted me on earth. The answer would surely have been no. But I would have known that perfection would never be attained on earth, and that even if I had been an angel or a prophet, I could never have worshipped Allah to the measure of what He deserved. I would have remembered that Paradise does not belong to perfect people but to those who repent so I would have used my last strength to ask Allah’s forgiveness, thinking of every sin I might have committed, every imperfection my acts of worship contained, every drop of pride and vanity my heart carried, every injustice I had witnessed without acting.
Then I would have closed my eyes and taken a deep breath of that air of which Allah had never deprived me a single time in my life despite my sins, my lies, the injustices I had committed, and the acts of worship I was too lazy to perform.
I would have thought I was not ready at the idea of meeting my Lord, and this even if Allah had granted me a hundred more years on earth to worship Him, but I would have had full trust in Him, in His Mercy, His Love, His gentleness, and His justice, and I would have asked for nothing except to see Him and spend Eternity in His company.
Then I would at last have surrendered to my final sleep, wondering what had prevented me from living my whole life like this day.
Heedlessness has nonetheless accompanied us for all these years, even though we do not know when death will take us back; even though we know full well, lying down each evening, that we may not wake up the next day.
May Allah have pity on us, show us mercy, and allow us to end our life on such acts of submission and love for Him alone. Amin
And you, what would you do if you were told you are living your last day? Tell us in the comments.
A text written by AmatuLah
Reviewed and corrected by the Coran Français team