I learnt the art of prayer from my parents.
My dad would give talks and lectures.
He'd perform weddings and naming rites. He'd guest speak at events.
He'd start and close them with prayers.
My mum, she'd close our sentences with in sha Allah. She'd interrupt us with an alhamdulillah and always tell us to make du'a.
There's not a thing I'd ask my parents for that they wouldn't say ask Allah.
I grew up annoyed that they'd always differ.
Felt like their favourite get out of jail free card was Allah.
But inevitably what they taught me was the consistency of prayer.
My parents taught me to call on Allah. My mum reminds me daily to make du'a. My dad ends every other whatsapp message with a'adiyah.
As I type this my mum says mid our convo about retirement homes and relocations, "Make copious duaa oooo, We need Allaah help"
Me, scared, "What happened"
"What's the 27th" I wonder, still thinking something must be happening to her.
Mum "Laylatul Qadr".
Because somehow, although we were conversing about future plans, her mind was focussed on the possibility that tonight could be the odd night. For my mum, there is no future without prayer.
So I guess what my parents taught me is the power of the One Prayed to.