We have all heard the beautiful and oft-quoted verse in the Qur’an: “Allah does not burden a soul more than it can bear” (2:286).

At face value, it seems like Allah is saying that you will not be tested with more than you can handle. That if you are going through something devastatingly difficult like losing a child, the love of your life, your home being burned to the ground, being starved, kidnapped, tortured, or subjected to other unspeakable horrors that happen to people every single day (insert: Gaza, Sudan) then your test is something you can endure.

While that understanding may hold meaning, and I am by no means a scholar to comment on the exact interpretation of this verse, I want to share some of my own tadabbur (reflection and contemplation) on it as a Muslim, a therapist, and a human being.

In my job, I hear of unspeakable horrors that people go through. I hear of tragedy and misfortune striking people one after another. I see people with beautiful hearts and good intentions treated in despicable ways. I see unfairness and injustice penetrate the lives of so many.

In my personal life, I know people who have gone through insufferable situations I would never wish upon myself or anyone else. I myself have been in similar situations too. We all have. And somehow, by some miracle, we survive. We wake up the next day. Yes, some people don’t make it, but those who do have survived for a reason.

That doesn’t mean these people are “okay.” It doesn’t mean they aren’t sad, devastated, grieving, angry, hungry, uncomfortable, displaced, paralyzed, or broken. It also doesn’t mean they are not traumatized or suffering because of that hardship. It doesn’t mean they don’t even become vengeful.

I think we often interpret the word “bear” to mean that hardship or difficulty won’t impact us. But that’s not what I think it means at all and Allah knows best.

The Opportunity to Bear Hardships

Perhaps it means that despite all the misery that comes with some of the most painful tests we face as humans, we are given the opportunity to handle that hardship in the way of our choosing, just as many of the prophets and righteous before us did.

Musa (AS) grew up in a tyrant’s home and was wanted for accidental murder.

Ibrahim (AS) had an abusive father and was thrown into a fire by his own community.

Yusuf (AS) was separated from his father, thrown into a well, sold as a slave, falsely accused, and unjustly imprisoned.

Maryam (AS) was accused and slandered with a heinous sin.

Asiyah (AS) was tortured to death by her tyrant husband, Pharaoh.

The Prophet Muhammad (SAW) was born an orphan, lost all but one of his children in his lifetime, lost his first wife, and lost his mother, uncle, and grandfather. He was subjected to boycott, lies, and aggression from his own community to the extent that his people tried to murder him.

These are circumstances no human would think they could bear. Yet each of these individuals grew through their hardships. They chose resilience and perseverance—maybe because they had no other choice, but definitely because Allah is truthful when He says that He does not burden a soul more than it can bear.

I see the hardships that come our way as opportunities, and perhaps that is what it means to “bear” these difficulties.

We can choose to bear them.

We can choose to submit, show patience, and use them to find meaning and purpose.

Post Traumatic Growth and the People of Gaza

There is a psychological term called Post-Traumatic Growth, which describes when trauma and adversity result in positive changes in how one understands oneself, others, and the world. The five main areas of post-traumatic growth include: closer relationships, personal strength, greater appreciation for life, new possibilities, and spiritual development.

A living case study of this phenomenon is the people of Gaza, who have been withstanding genocide for the past two and a half years. They embody post-traumatic growth, even while they are still experiencing this trauma as we speak. May Allah ease their situation.

Have you not seen journalists like Bisan risking their lives to document everything happening?

Have you not seen little Leen making five-star meals in a tent?

Have you not seen Amu Khalid (Allah yarhamhu) trying to make others smile even after losing the soul of his soul, Reem and Tariq?

Their losses are unimaginable, yet they are living proof of this ayah:

“Allah does not place upon a soul more than it can bear.” 

They choose to bear the trials of life with faith and hope, just like those before them.

And we can too.