
social.group.members
Free, Free Palestine!
@smile19

Free Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya — a doctor is dying in Israeli custody
https://savedrabusafiya.com/
@Mulkiyya91963893
The Kind of Faith You Cannot Fake
There is a kind of faith that never needs to announce itself.
It does not compete for admiration.
It does not ask to be seen.
It is discovered only when everything else has been taken away.
I have listened to stories from Palestine.
Not stories that asked for my pity.
Stories that quietly exposed my own heart.
I heard of mothers who buried what no mother should ever bury,
yet their tongues still remembered the Lord who gave before He took.
I heard of fathers whose grief could have turned into bitterness,
yet it became another reason to raise their hands in duaa.
And I wondered...
How does a heart carry so much without putting down Allah?
Perhaps that is the difference between faith we speak about,
and faith that has become part of the soul.
I lose sleep over tomorrow.
They have lost tomorrows.
Yet so often, I hear Alhamdulillah from lips that have every worldly reason to remain silent.
How small my certainty seems beside theirs.
Not because I know the weight of their grief.
I do not.
But because I know the weight of my own blessings,
and how easily I forget the One who placed them in my hands.
Perhaps faith is not measured by how loudly we speak of Allah when life is gentle.
Perhaps it is revealed by where the heart runs when life becomes unbearable.
Ya Allah,
Grant us hearts that remember You before hardship humbles us,
tongues that praise You before sorrow teaches us,
and if You test us, grant us a faith that neither fear nor grief can steal.
To the people of Palestine
I cannot carry your pain.
But I carry your stories.
And through them, my heart has learned that there is a kind of faith this world cannot manufacture,
because it belongs to those who have entrusted everything to Allah.
I love you all for the sake of Allah.
@Mohammed60250667
They want to build their satanic temple for their Antichrist
@Mohammed60250667
@Teemi
Israel is just a big nosed thug with money. Infiltrates everything from tech to education to your kids tv shows and media, to lobbying the governments. To crypto currency, to surveillance. The list is forever long. They don’t need the US or any other support, the snakes have already infiltrated everywhere from the birth of their time.
@Smile2Jannah
✨🌙✌🏼🕊️🇵🇸😟🤲🏼✍🏼🫡
Insha' Allah, Freedom will come Palestine 🤍
@Mulkiyya91963893
The Dreams They Were Building...
Sometimes I wonder if numbers have made us forget names.
Behind every statistic was someone building a life.
I recently listened to a Palestinian woman share her story.
She spoke of losing family members one after another. She spoke of grief no heart should ever have to carry.
But one thing she said has remained with me.
She spoke of the dreams they were building before the war.
Some were doctors.
Some were engineers.
Some were students.
Some had just begun careers they had worked so hard for.
They were not just victims.
They were people with ambitions, favourite meals, inside jokes, books they still wanted to read, and tomorrows they were preparing for.
Sometimes we speak about Palestine as though it is only a place of tragedy.
But before the rubble, there were classrooms.
Before the headlines, there were dreams.
Before the world knew their names, Allah already knew every hope they carried in their hearts.
I don't write this because I have answers.
I write this because I don't want their dreams to disappear beneath the weight of statistics.
May Allah accept those who have returned to Him.
May He preserve those who remain.
May He grant relief to every grieving heart.
And may we never forget that every life taken was a world known completely by Allah.
I love you all for the sake of Allah.
@JohnConnor
@Mulkiyya91963893
The Empty Chair
Some chairs should never have become empty.
A place once filled with laughter.
A tiny voice asking for another piece of bread.
A mother calling her children to eat.
A father returning home, hoping to gather everyone around one table.
Now, there is only silence.
We often hear numbers.
But numbers cannot tell us who loved to laugh the loudest.
They cannot tell us who dreamed of becoming a doctor, a teacher, or a memoriser of the Qur'an.
They cannot tell us whose favourite place was beside their mother, or who waited every evening for their father to come home.
Every empty chair carries a story.
Every silence carries a name.
Every absence leaves behind hearts that still remember.
Ya Allah,
Comfort every heart that longs for someone who is no longer sitting at their table.
Grant patience to those whose homes feel quieter than they ever imagined.
Accept those who have returned to You, and reunite them with their loved ones in Jannatul Firdaus.
May we never become so accustomed to hearing about Palestine that we stop feeling their pain.
And may every empty chair one day be replaced with an everlasting gathering in Jannah, where there is no grief, no fear, and no farewell.
I love you all for the sake of Allah.