It’s Fajr. Your alarm goes off. You roll over. Grab your phone. Check your messages. Minutes disappear. The sun rises. Fajr time is gone.
You didn’t leave your bed. You didn’t leave your comfort. You couldn’t even leave your phone for twenty minutes to pray to the One who gave you everything.
Now let me tell you about Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام. Allah ﷻ commanded him to leave his wife Hajar (AS) and his infant son Ismail (AS) alone in an empty, barren desert—no water, no food, no shelter, no people for miles—with only a pouch of dates and a small skin of water.
And he did it. He walked away. His wife, holding their baby, ran after him asking “Where are you going? Who are you leaving us with?” He didn’t answer. She asked again. And again. Until finally she asked, as documented by scholars studying this story: “Did Allah command you to do this?”
He said yes.
And she immediately responded: “Then He will not neglect us.” She turned around. Went back to that empty desert. Sat down with her baby. And trusted Allah ﷻ completely.
You can’t trust Allah ﷻ enough to leave your phone in another room at night. You can’t trust Him enough to delete one app. You can’t trust Him enough to sacrifice one hour of entertainment for one hour of worship.
The Fire That Should Burn You With Shame
According to the Quran in Surah Al-Anbiya, when Ibrahim عليه السلام destroyed the idols his people worshipped, they were furious. They gathered. They conspired. And they decided: burn him alive.
[Surah Al-Anbiya, Ayah 68-70]
“They said, ‘Burn him and support your gods—if you are to act.’ We said, ‘O fire, be coolness and safety upon Abraham.’ And they intended for him harm, but We made them the greatest losers.”
They dug a massive pit. They gathered wood from miles around. They lit a fire so enormous, according to these reports, birds flying overhead would burn and fall from the sky. The flames were so intense that people couldn’t get close enough to throw Ibrahim عليه السلام in—they had to build a catapult.
And Ibrahim عليه السلام? As they placed him in the catapult, as they prepared to launch him into that inferno—Jibreel عليه السلام came to him and asked: “Do you need anything?”
Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام could have asked to be saved. To be taken away. To not have to face the fire. But he said: “From you, nothing. From Allah, He knows my situation.”
He was thrown into the fire. And Allah ﷻ commanded the fire to be cool and safe for him. He walked out unharmed,—not because he avoided the test, but because he walked into it with complete trust in Allah ﷻ.
Now look at you. You won’t walk into the slightest discomfort for Allah ﷻ. According to research on Muslim phone addiction documented by scholars, Malaysia ranks third globally in smartphone addiction—and the majority are Muslims. You’re addicted. Enslaved to a device. And you won’t even feel uncomfortable enough to break free.
Waking up for Fajr is uncomfortable? Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام walked into a fire. Your bed is too warm? He left his family in a desert. You’ll miss your show? He was willing to sacrifice his son, as we’ll see next.
What happened to this Ummah? What happened to your willingness to sacrifice anything for Allah ﷻ, as Islamic spiritual guides ask when confronting modern Muslim complacency?
The Knife at His Son’s Throat
Years passed. Hajar (RA) and Ismail (RA) survived miraculously as Allahﷻ had willed. The well of Zamzam sprang forth. Ibrahim عليه السلام would visit them periodically. Ismail عليه السلام grew into a young boy—intelligent, obedient, beloved, as described in the Quran.
Then Allah ﷻ tested Ibrahim عليه السلام again, according to Surah As-Saffat studied by Islamic exegetes. The test that would define his legacy.
[Surah As-Saffat, Ayah 102-107]
“And when he reached with him [the age of] exertion, he said, ‘O my son, indeed I have seen in a dream that I am slaughtering you, so see what you think.’ He said, ‘O my father, do as you are commanded. You will find me, if Allah wills, of the steadfast.’ And when they had both submitted and he put him down upon his forehead, We called to him, ‘O Abraham, you have fulfilled the vision.’ Indeed, We thus reward the doers of good. Indeed, this was the clear trial. And We ransomed him with a great sacrifice.”
Imagine that conversation. Ibrahim عليه السلام tells his young son: I saw in a dream that I’m slaughtering you. And the dreams of prophets are revelation—commands from Allah ﷻ.
He could have hidden it. Justified not doing it. Made excuses, according to human reasoning. But Ibrahim عليه السلام did what he always did according to the Quranic pattern: he submitted completely.
And Ismail عليه السلام—this young boy according to scholarly estimates around thirteen years old—responded with words that should shatter every Muslim who reads them: “O my father, do as you are commanded. You will find me, if Allah wills, of the steadfast.”
Do it. I submit. Slaughter me if Allah commanded it, according to his statement preserved in the Quran.
They went together. Ibrahim عليه السلام laid his beloved son down. He raised the knife. And he brought it down—ready to sacrifice the thing he loved most in this world because Allah ﷻ commanded it.
Allah ﷻ stopped him. Sent a ram to sacrifice instead. The test was passed. Not because he didn’t love his son—he loved him deeply according to natural parental love—but because he loved Allah ﷻ more.
You won’t sacrifice one episode of a show to pray Isha on time. You won’t sacrifice scrolling to read Quran for ten minutes. You won’t sacrifice your comfort, your entertainment, your convenience—for anything.
Ibrahim عليه السلام was willing to sacrifice his son. You won’t even sacrifice your phone.
The Desert You Won’t Enter
Let’s go back to that moment when Ibrahim عليه السلام left Hajar (RA) and baby Ismail (RA) in the desert.
The provisions ran out. The water finished. The baby started crying from thirst. Hajar (RA) became desperate. She couldn’t watch her baby suffer, as the maternal instinct documented in this story drove her to action.
She ran. From the hill of Safa to the hill of Marwah. Looking for water. For help. For anything. She ran seven times. Seven times between those hills in the scorching desert heat. Her baby was dying. She had no one to turn to except Allah ﷻ.
And then—Allah ﷻ sent Jibreel عليه السلام who struck the ground with his wing, and water gushed forth. Zamzam. The blessed well that still flows today, as Muslims who visit Makkah can verify. A miracle. A provision from Allah ﷻ for those who trusted Him completely.
That running between Safa and Marwah is now part of Hajj. Millions do it every year, commemorating Hajar’s trust in Allah ﷻ. We literally reenact her willingness to struggle, to be uncomfortable, to leave her comfort zone in absolute trust of Allah ﷻ, as scholars explain when teaching Hajj rituals.
But according to modern Muslim reality that researchers document, you won’t leave your comfort zone for anything. According to studies documented by Islamic researchers, over 33% of Muslims globally struggle with internet and phone addiction. You won’t run for your Deen the way Hajar (RA) ran for her son, as Islamic spiritual guides observe with grief. You won’t struggle. You won’t be uncomfortable. You won’t sacrifice your ease.
Your comfort zone has become your prison. And you’ve locked yourself in it willingly, as research on digital addiction confirms. You have the key—you could leave any time—but according to your choices, you won’t. Because Netflix is comfortable. Instagram is comfortable. Staying in bed is comfortable.
Ibrahim عليه السلام left everything that was comfortable. You won’t leave anything.
What You’re Actually Holding Onto
According to recent research documented by Malaysian scholars, Malaysia ranks third globally in smartphone addiction. Third. And according to demographic data, the majority of Malaysia’s population is Muslim.
The average person, according to global statistics compiled by technology researchers, checks their phone 96 times per day. That’s once every 10 minutes while awake, as research documents. Students and young adults—according to multiple studies on Muslim communities documented by researchers—average over 5-6 hours daily on their phones.
You know what you could do with six hours according to Islamic teachings emphasized by scholars? Memorize Quran. Study Hadith. Learn your Deen properly. Develop a skill that benefits the Ummah. Serve your community. Strengthen family bonds, as Islam commands. But you’re spending it scrolling through content you’ll forget in five minutes, as studies on digital media consumption consistently show.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as recorded in authentic hadith documented by scholars in Jami’ at-Tirmidhi: “Whoever makes this world his goal, Allah will confound his affairs and make him fear poverty constantly, and he will not get anything of this world except that which has been decreed for him. Whoever makes the Hereafter his goal, Allah will settle his affairs and make him content in his heart, and his provision and worldly gains will come to him willingly.”
Your goal, according to six hours a day on your phone, is this world. Your goal, according to sleeping through Fajr, is comfort. Your goal, according to the reality scholars observe, is not the Hereafter—because if it was, you’d live differently.
[Surah Al-Hadid, Ayah 20]
“Know that the life of this world is but amusement and diversion and adornment and boasting to one another and competition in increase of wealth and children—like the example of a rain whose [resulting] plant growth pleases the tillers; then it dries and you see it turned yellow; then it becomes [scattered] debris. And in the Hereafter is severe punishment and forgiveness from Allah and approval. And what is the worldly life except the enjoyment of delusion.”
The enjoyment of delusion. That’s what you’re sacrificing your prayers for. That’s what you’re sacrificing your Deen for. That’s what you’re choosing over Allah ﷻ— delusion, as the Quran explicitly calls it.
What Ibrahim Would Say to You
If Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام could see you now— what would he say?
He’d see you lying in bed, alarm ringing for Fajr, and you hit snooze because getting up is uncomfortable. He walked into a fire for Allah ﷻ. And you won’t walk out of your bed.
He’d see you scrolling according to average daily statistics, wasting hours on apps that add nothing to your life or your Akhirah. He left his infant son in a desert with complete trust in Allah ﷻ. And you don’t trust Allah ﷻ enough to delete one app.
He’d see you complaining according to common patterns Islamic counselors hear—about how hard it is to pray on time, to fast, to give charity, to follow basic Islamic obligations. He was willing to sacrifice his son. And you won’t sacrifice your comfort.
What would he think of an Ummah, that has everything—access to the Quran, authentic Hadith, Islamic knowledge at their fingertips, safety, wealth, comfort—yet does nothing with it? According to historical comparison, Ibrahim عليه السلام had nothing. He faced fire. He faced exile. He faced tests that would break most people. Yet he submitted completely, according to every account.
You have everything. And you submit to your phone more than you submit to your Lord.
The Sacrifice Allah Wants From You
Allah ﷻ isn’t asking you to sacrifice your son, according to Islamic law after Prophet Ibrahim’s test established that human sacrifice is forbidden. He’s not asking you to walk into fire. He’s not asking you to leave your family in a desert, according to typical Islamic obligations.
He’s asking for much less. But even that “much less” seems like too much for you, based on modern Muslim behavior.
He’s asking you to wake up for Fajr. That’s all. Ten minutes. Out of twenty-four hours. You can’t do it, as prayer attendance statistics consistently show.
He’s asking you to put your phone down and pray. Five times a day. Fifteen to twenty minutes total. You spend six hours on your phone according to research, but can’t spare fifteen minutes for your Creator.
He’s asking you to leave one sin. Just one. The one that’s destroying your heart. The one you know is wrong. You know which one it is according to your conscience. But you won’t leave it.
He’s asking you to sacrifice your comfort zone. Pray Qiyam sometimes. Fast voluntarily. Give charity that actually costs you something. Do something uncomfortable for His sake.
Ibrahim عليه السلام gave everything. Allah ﷻ is asking you for crumbs in comparison, as scholars emphasize when teaching about proportional sacrifice. And you still won’t give it.
The Test You’re Failing
Every moment of your life is a test. Your wealth—test. Your health—test. Your time—test. Your phone—test.
And according to statistics documented by researchers, you’re failing. Spectacularly.
The companions رضي الله عنهم, would give away their entire wealth for Allah’s cause. You won’t give away your phone for even one day,.
The early Muslims, would wake for Tahajjud and weep in fear of Allah ﷻ. You won’t wake for Fajr—the obligatory prayer—and according to typical responses, you feel nothing about missing it except maybe mild guilt that fades by breakfast.
The prophets faced tests that would destroy most people. And they passed. Every time. Through complete submission to Allah ﷻ.
You’re being tested with ease according to contemporary Muslim circumstances. With comfort. With technology. With entertainment. Tests that seem easy according to external appearance—but according to spiritual reality emphasized by scholars, they’re destroying you from the inside.
Because according to Islamic spiritual wisdom documented across generations, the hardest test isn’t pain. It’s comfort. It’s ease. It’s being so distracted, so entertained, so numb—that you forget Allah ﷻ completely, as Quranic warnings consistently describe.
[Surah At-Takathur, Ayah 1-8]
“Competition in [worldly] increase diverts you until you visit the graveyards. No! You are going to know. Then no! You are going to know. No! If you only knew with knowledge of certainty. You will surely see the Hellfire. Then you will surely see it with the eye of certainty. Then you will surely be asked that Day about pleasure.”
You’ll be asked about pleasure. Every moment you spent scrolling. Every prayer you missed for comfort. Every hour wasted. You’ll be asked: What did you do with the ease I gave you? With the time? With the blessings?
And what will you say?
What You Must Do
It’s not too late. The door of Tawbah is still open. Allah ﷻ is still calling you back. But you have to actually move. You have to actually sacrifice something.
Delete the apps that are destroying you. If Instagram makes you sin, delete it. If TikTok wastes your time, delete it. If any app is between you and Allah ﷻ according to your usage patterns, it needs to go. Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام destroyed idols. Your phone has become your idol according to usage statistics showing how much you worship it. Destroy that relationship.
Make Fajr non-negotiable. According to Islamic law it already is obligatory, but make it so in your life. Sleep early. Put your phone far from your bed. Set multiple alarms. Do whatever it takes. Ibrahim عليه السلام woke up to take his son to be sacrificed. You can wake up to thank Allah ﷻ for another day.
Fast from your phone. Take one day a week—or even just a few hours—and completely disconnect. No phone. No screens. Just you, your family, your Quran, your Lord. See how addicted you actually are according to withdrawal symptoms that will emerge. Then fight to break free, as Islamic struggle against the nafs requires.
Spend on Allah’s path in a way that hurts. The charity that counts is the one that costs you something. Give until you feel it. Give until it’s uncomfortable. Ibrahim عليه السلام was willing to give his son according to divine command. You won’t even give a percentage of income you were going to waste anyway.
Enter your personal fire. Whatever makes you most uncomfortable for Allah’s sake—do it. Pray Qiyam when you’re tired. Fast Mondays and Thursdays. Memorize Quran when it’s difficult. Serve others when you’d rather relax. Make Dawah when you’re shy. Ibrahim عليه السلام walked into literal fire. Walk into the fire of discomfort for Allah ﷻ.
[Surah Al-Ankabut, Ayah 2-3]
“Do the people think that they will be left to say, ‘We believe’ and they will not be tried? But We have certainly tried those before them, and Allah will surely make evident those who are truthful, and He will surely make evident the liars.”
You will be tested. The question is: Will you pass? Or will you fail because sacrificing your comfort was too hard according to your weak resolve?
The Reality That Should Break You
Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام is called the Friend of Allah ﷻ—Khalilullah—according to Quranic designation. According to scholarly interpretation of this highest title, he earned it through complete, unconditional surrender documented in every test.
You want to be from the friends of Allah ﷻ? start acting like it. Stop choosing your phone over your prayers. Stop choosing your comfort over your Creator. Stop choosing temporary pleasure over eternal success.
Ibrahim عليه السلام left everything. His home. His people. His comfort. His son. Everything—for Allah ﷻ.
You won’t leave anything. Not your sins. Not your addictions. Not your comfort. Not even your phone.
One day, you’ll meet him. Prophet Ibrahim عليه السلام. In the Hereafter. And you’ll see the difference between someone who sacrificed everything for Allah ﷻ and someone who sacrificed nothing.
Make sure you’re proud of that meeting. Make sure you can look him in the eye and say: “I tried. I struggled. I sacrificed. I submitted”—according to a life actually lived that way.
Don’t let your answer be, based on current trajectory that scholars observe with grief: “I was too comfortable. Too attached. Too addicted. I had everything you didn’t have—and I did nothing with it,” according to what wasted lives reveal.
The choice is yours. The phone or the prayer. The comfort or the Creator. The dunya or the Deen.
Ibrahim عليه السلام chose. Now it’s your turn.
Choose wisely. Because this choice determines everything.