By Ruqoyah Mazlan

Growing up, my parents made sure that the Qur’an was never something distant.

My parents taught children from our neighbourhood in our living room twice a week, and I would quietly sit on my father’s lap as he guided them through their Iqra and Qur’an.

Those moments shaped my earliest relationship with the Qur’an, surrounded by voices learning, trying, stumbling, repeating. My parents were patient teachers, not just to others, but especially to me.

They instilled in us that this Book was central to our lives, something worth returning to no matter how strong or weak we were at reading it.

Being the youngest in the family, I often felt the 7 year gap between myself and my older siblings. They were already reciting fluently and even competing at a young age, while I was still grappling with the basics.

Their small snickering comments, my slower reading and the many mistakes, all of it slowly chipped away at my confidence.

I began to internalize a belief that if I could not read well, maybe I was not meant to read at all. So I started finding excuses to skip family reading sessions or would just look at the Qur’an myself feeling frustrated and defeated.

It wasn’t until much later, during the quiet of the COVID lockdown, that something shifted. When life slowed down and families were forced to retreat into their homes, mine decided to read one juz a day during Ramadhan with the goal of completing a khatam by the end of it.

Something about that shared mission stirred something in me. Maybe it was maturity, maybe it was the quiet of that strange period, but for the first time in a long while, I wanted to read and contribute to our efforts to Khatam.

The first few days were rough; I lagged behind during our nightly readings. But instead of shrinking back, I decided to prepare. Throughout the day, I would steal small pockets of time to practise the pages I was assigned so I could read more smoothly at night.

I STARTED TO UNDERSTAND THAT THE QUR’AN ISN’T JUST A MIRACLE BECAUSE OF ITS WORDS. IT’S A MIRACLE BECAUSE OF WHAT IT DOES TO A PERSON WHO KEEPS COMING BACK TO IT, DESPITE SELF-DOUBT, DESPITE SLOW PROGRESS, DESPITE FEELING BEHIND OTHERS.

Allah doesn’t give miracles without also giving the means to grow through them. My difficulty wasn’t a barrier to the Qur’an; it was an invitation to meet the Qur’an with more sincerity, effort, and humility.

My journey with the Qur’an is still imperfect and probably always will be, but that is exactly the point. The Qur’an was never meant to be approached only by the fluent or confident.

It was revealed for the whole ummah: the fast readers, the slow ones, the ones who stumble, and the ones who try again. Understanding that the Qur’an is a living miracle, I want to honour that miracle not by being persistent.

By not allowing self-doubt or fear of mistakes to keep me away. By treasuring the words of Allah enough to recite them even when my voice is uncertain. For miracles from Allah are not without challenges.