You know you’re getting older and more fragile when sneezing feels like a near-death experience.
Yes, that wasn’t a joke. I sneezed once, and honestly I thought my soul was about to exit through my spine. I’m not even exaggerating. One innocent sneeze can now trigger an entire spiritual journey, an out-of-body moment, a terrible experience, and a possible emergency room visit—all in under three seconds.
And let’s not even talk about how I now limp on both sides. Not one or the other — but both. I walk into any room (proudly speaking) like Donald Duck got promoted to a Sheikh’s position.
Jokes aside. Pain is serious… but sometimes, it’s also seriously funny.
Let me explain.
The slap of reality… and the wall
Once, during my early recovery, I attempted to lean casually on a wall behind the podium (as I usually don’t like speaking while sitting). I just wanted to look more comfortable while talking or maybe to feel cool and composed. Bad idea. I misjudged my balance, lost my footing, and slid down the wall like melted butter. A whole grown-up man— “your international speaker” — slowly oozing down to the ground in front of a confused (and some giggling) audience.
Some of them ran up to me saying, “Sheikh, are you OK?” and I whispered, “Yeah, don’t worry, all good, Alhamdulilah.”
Then later I held the mic, looked into the audience with a big smile, and said, “Hey, that was a metaphor that I call falling into Sabr… try it sometime.” And those who were holding their giggles started to explode in laughter.
Pain humbles you. It turns your confident walk into a calculated shuffle. It makes you check your posture 50+ times a day. You no longer simply sit — you lower yourself with a Du’a: ‘Ya Allah, don’t let this be the one that locks my spine forever.’
The reward is in the awkwardness
People often think that pain strips you of your dignity. But no — it gifts you with humility and an entirely new comedy routine if you just can accept your reality.
You find yourself in prayer, bowing gently like a falling tree in slow motion. You sneeze while holding your wife’s arm as if you’re drowning and she’s a piece of wood in the middle of a vast ocean. You try to get out of bed and end up negotiating with your knees, back, and toes. And while all the above is taking place, you’re hilariously laughing at yourself.
But here’s the point: these moments are not humiliating — they are enlightening and rewarding.
They remind you that you’re not in control. That no matter how strong, young, or well-planned you are, one nerve pinch can make you recite the Shahadah and scream all night involuntarily.
And when you stop trying to pretend that you’re invincible, that’s when the real strength kicks in.
Laughing through the limp
I’ve found that one of the most effective ways to deal with pain — after Du’a of course, medication, physiotherapy, and whatever else is necessary—is laughter. It is to pause and reflect on how you have turned out to be and laugh for a bit at the entire situation.
Not mockery. Not denial. But that honest and deep laughter that says, “SubhanAllah, even in this, there’s a huge wisdom.”
The signature and landmark of our beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was his cheerful and smiley face. He joked with his companions often, yet he endured unimaginable pain throughout his mission. He never once lost his sense of calmness, perspective, and, yes, even his humor.
Sometimes I wonder… what if the pain I’m in today is actually protecting me from something worse? What if Allah SWT has dragged me down to the ground not to embarrass me, but to humble me before Him, beautifully? – shouldn’t I smile and be joyous for this?
Because let’s be honest — nothing makes you remember Allah SWT faster than a sudden back flare while trying to pick up your phone. Yes, I mean it. most of us turn back to Allah SWT when we’re most vulnerable, when we are going through all types of pain.
The Deeper message beneath the giggles
So, it’s okay to laugh at your struggle — as long as you remember its main purpose.
Pain is a cleanser. It wipes away your sins like rain washing over the dusty earth. Every limp, every painful sneeze, every failed attempt to sit or bend — it’s a testimony that you’re being reshaped, refined, and reminded of your fragility.
And honestly… what a gift that is.
Because if we’re honest, we often forget to slow down, to reflect, to appreciate, and to remember who we really are. But once you’re forced to count your steps, literally, you begin to value the One who gave you the ability to walk in the first place. Alhamdulilah.
Final thoughts from your favorite limping Sheikh
Quick words of reminders to all those who painlessly read my words while painfully going through dramas in their lives.
- If you’re in pain, let it teach you (think and reflect deeply to learn from your experience).
- If you fall, fall into Sujood and don’t be ashamed of crying out to Allah SWT.
- If you limp, limp with style, I mean, with contentment.
- And if you sneeze so hard, then scream out loud AAAAAAAAAAHHH Lhamdulilah, then pretend that you were calling someone far, far away 🙂
Remember: life isn’t always about walking tall. Sometimes it’s about limping with humbleness. So smile sincerely, and trust Allah SWT and His plan for you — knowing that He is with you in every step, every shuffle, and every stumble of the way.
And yes… even if those steps look like Donald Duck walking back from the swimming pool with his funny towel on. Keep on walking and enjoy the limps.
