Two months ago, during my first term break, my Malaysian friends and I decided on a one-day trip to Newcastle. The city was filled with beautiful sights, but the last stop—Nobby’s Beach—left the deepest imprint on me. I had visited several beaches in Sydney, yet this one held a different kind of tranquility. I walked with an empty head through the pathway alongside the shore. There was nothing in my brain but admiration for the scenery. It has been a while since the last time I mindfully looked at the surroundings. Hence, it's safe to say that that evening was quite a memorable walk for me. 

As Maghrib approached, my friend and I made our way to the cold ocean water for ablution (wudhu). Using Google’s qibla finder, we figured out that we’d perform our prayer facing the beautiful lighthouse. After we finished, we just silently sat and stared at the expanse of sand. From a distance, the lighthouse glowed, standing tall against the darkening sky. It was such a magical moment where I deeply reflected and thought about life.

During my first month in Sydney, I often felt uneasy about performing my prayers. On campus, I would search for a “safe space” or take a long walk to the religious center. Ablution was another challenge—I had to lift my leg to the sink, all the while worrying about how odd I might look to others. Praying in public spaces made me anxious; the weight of unfamiliar stares unsettled me. It was a new experience for someone who had never faced such hurdles back in Indonesia.

Later I remembered a conversation I had with my dad when I was very young. We had finished performing the Maghrib prayer and sat in the prayer room waiting for Isha's time. When the time arrived, I said to him, “Should I do ablution again? I don’t think anything invalidated it, but what if I forgot something?”

He smiled and said, “What’s so hard about doing ablution, Im? Even the simplest act of worship is counted and rewarded by Allah. Every effort you make for Him matters,“ He advised, “So, always do your best for Allah.”

That memory resurfaced like a gentle wave, reminding me of something I had nearly forgotten: worship is not just about obligation; it is about sincerity. It is about doing our best, regardless of how small the act may seem. If I truly wanted His mercy, how could I give anything less than my full effort?

I recalled a time when I feared people’s stares while praying on the street, so I chose to pray sitting down—convincing myself that it was my “best effort.” But deep down, I knew that wasn’t true. I had settled for comfort instead of striving for what was right. What a shame that I couldn’t even perform the most important ritual properly yet think that I deserve a flowery fate.  

What excuse did I have? When people in war zones, those with disabilities, and those living in extreme poverty still found ways to pray properly, what right did I have to hesitate? When the Prophet (peace be upon him) and his companions continued their prayers even under threat of attack, who was I to be discouraged by a few glances? Where was my gratitude for a body that functioned perfectly, a decent life, and the privilege of praying in peace?

I stared at the beautiful beacon, with the peaceful calming sound of the beach in my ears and tears covered my eyes. As a woman full of excuses ‘’I don’t think I can”, “Shall I take the easy road?”, and “No need to put more effort as this is also acceptable”, I reflected on this mistake of mine. As a Muslim, I lacked perseverance. I had made too many mistakes, fallen short too many times. And yet, despite all my shortcomings, He continued to bless me, to guide me, to send me moments like this one—reminders wrapped in the gentleness of an ocean breeze.

Lost track of time, the sky gradually turned black. My heart felt warm on this cold seashore due to the thankfulness for this experience of becoming a minority. I appreciated how my love for Allah has grown through difficult times. I stared again at the radiant lighthouse, this time with a smile. As the lighthouse guides mariners, thank You for always guiding me. Alhamdulillah.

Love,

iim