Why the Muslim woman needs to be more like a sea turtle

There is a story that has stayed with me for years.

A man once asked the Prophet ﷺ whether he should tie his camel and trust in Allah, or leave it untied and trust in Allah.

And the Prophet ﷺ said:

“Tie it and trust in Allah.”

I come back to those words again and again.

Tie it. Then trust Allah.

Because I think sometimes we misunderstand tawakkul. We think trusting Allah means we shouldn't worry about anything. We shouldn't plan. We shouldn't think too much. We should just leave everything to Allah and somehow... everything will work itself out.

But that's not tawakkul.

You tie the camel. You do what you can. You take the means. You make the effort. And then you let Allah take care of what you cannot. And honestly, that last part can be so hard.

Especially as women.

Especially when you are a woman who is used to carrying things. Carrying the children. Carrying the home. Carrying everyone's feelings. Remembering the appointments. Remembering who needs what. Thinking about the future. Thinking about the bills. Thinking about your husband. Thinking about your parents. Thinking about your children. Thinking about your health.

And then, on top of all of that, you're thinking about whether you're doing enough. Am I doing enough? Did I handle that properly? Should I have said something? Should I have done something differently? What if this happens What if that happens?

And before you know it, you're carrying things that Allah never asked you to carry. You're tying the camel... and then you're picking it up and putting it on your back.

I've done this. I think most of us have. You tell yourself you're being responsible. You're planning. You're being careful. You're protecting the people you love. But sometimes, if we're honest, we're not planning anymore.

We're worrying.

And worrying feels productive because your mind is busy. You're thinking. You're analysing. You're trying to find a solution. But sometimes there is no solution for you to find.

Not yet. Maybe not ever. Because it's simply not yours.

I remember one woman in particular. A few years ago, I was working with a beautiful Muslim woman who struggled terribly with anxiety and overwhelm. And she said something to me that I have never forgotten.

She said, “But I do everything.”

She was talking about her worship. And she really did. She woke up for Fajr. She read her adhkaar. She read Qur'an. She made dhikr. She made du'a. She was trying. She was genuinely trying. But she couldn't sleep properly. She couldn't relax. Her mind just wouldn't switch off.

She was worried about her husband's health. Then her own health. Then one of her daughters. Then the other. And interestingly, it was rarely all of them at once. There was usually one thing. One particular worry that had taken over her mind. And she'd think about it. And think about it. And think about it. Until eventually that problem was resolved. And then something else would take its place. It was like her mind needed something to hold onto. Something to worry about.

And I remember thinking at the time:

How can someone be doing so much worship and still feel so unsafe? And I think I understand it differently now. She trusted Allah with her words. But she was still trying to control everything with her mind. She was making du'a... but she was also trying to make sure the answer came in the way she wanted. She was trusting Allah... but she was also trying to make sure nothing went wrong.

And those two things can quietly exist together. We can love Allah. We can pray. We can make dhikr. We can have tawakkul in our hearts... and still be desperately trying to control the outcome.

I know because I've done it myself. We don't just want Allah to take care of it. We want to know how. That's the difficult bit. We say, “Ya Allah, I trust You.” But inside, we are thinking:

“Okay, but what are You going to do?” “When will You do it?” “Is it going to happen the way I want?” “Is this going to work out?” “Please don't let this happen.”

And sometimes our du'a becomes less about surrender and more about trying to negotiate the future. We want reassurance. We want certainty. We want a guarantee. And Allah doesn't always give us one. That's where tawakkul becomes real. Not when everything is going well. Not when the outcome is obvious. Not when you've already got the answer you wanted. It's when you genuinely don't know.

You don't know what will happen to your child. You don't know what will happen with your marriage. You don't know what will happen with your health. You don't know what will happen with your finances. You don't know where the job will come from. You don't know whether the thing you're desperately asking Allah for is actually good for you.

You don't know. And still... you trust Him. That's tawakkul.

I think about the sea turtle sometimes. This might sound strange, but stay with me. A sea turtle is born on the shore and somehow knows to make its way towards the ocean. It doesn't know everything that's coming. It doesn't control the waves. It doesn't control the current. It doesn't know what the journey will look like. It just keeps moving. It does what it was created to do. And then there comes a point where it has to let the rest be. And I think there's something in that for us. We spend so much time trying to know everything.

Trying to predict everything. Trying to prevent everything. Trying to make sure that our children don't make mistakes. Trying to make sure our marriages don't struggle. Trying to make sure our careers go well. Trying to make sure our bodies stay healthy. Trying to make sure nothing catches us off guard. But life will catch you off guard.

It will.

Something will happen that you didn't plan for. Someone will disappoint you. A door will close. A plan will change. Someone you love will make a decision you wouldn't have made. And no amount of worrying beforehand can completely protect you from that.

So what do we do? We tie the camel. That's what we do.

We teach our children. We make the appointment. We save the money. We have the difficult conversation. We look after our bodies. We seek advice. We apply for the job. We make istikhara. We make du'a. We do what we can. And then there has to be a point where we stop.

Not because we don't care. Because we do care. We care deeply. But because we recognise that caring does not mean controlling. That's a big difference.

Sometimes we carry the camel because we're afraid to put it down I think that's what was happening with the woman I mentioned.

She wasn't lacking in faith. She wasn't lazy. She wasn't careless. She cared too much. She wanted to protect everyone. She wanted to get things right. She wanted to be a good wife, a good mother, a good Muslim. And underneath all of that was fear.

“What if I don't do enough?” “What if something goes wrong?” “What if I could have prevented it? And that's such a painful way to live. Because there is always something else to worry about.

Always.

You can spend your whole life preparing for a disaster that never comes. And miss the life Allah has actually given you today. You're sitting with your children, but you're worrying about their future. You're having dinner with your husband, but you're thinking about the problem at work. You're making dhikr, but your mind is ten years ahead. You're in bed, exhausted, but your brain is still solving tomorrow.

At some point you have to say:

Enough.

I've done what I can. Ya Allah, I've done what I can. The rest is Yours. And I think that's the part we don't talk about enough Tawakkul isn't passive. But it isn't frantic either. You don't have to be doing nothing. And you don't have to be doing everything.

There is a middle.

You take responsibility for what Allah has actually placed in your hands. And you leave the rest with Him. Your child's choices? Not completely yours. Your husband's reactions? Not yours. Other people's opinions? Not yours. The future? Definitely not yours. The outcome? Not yours.

Your responsibility is the effort. The outcome belongs to Allah. And sometimes I have to remind myself of that very literally.

What is actually mine here? What can I do? What can't I do? Okay.

Do the first. Leave the second. That's it. It sounds so simple. It isn't always simple. But maybe that's the practice. Again and again.

Tie the camel. Trust Allah.

Tie the camel. Trust Allah.

Tie the camel. And then stop carrying it.

Because the camel was never yours to carry. You were only ever asked to tie it. And then trust the One who Created it.

Where is one place in your life that you are going to do what is yours to do & leave what is not in your control?

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