Enjoy

Lombok Reflections

Enjoy!

There are moments in life when the most unexpected words open the deepest parts of the soul.

For me, it was a simple exchange in a hallway. No lecture. No khutbah. No quote from a scholar. Just one word. From a hotel staff member dressed in uniform passing by.

Let me take you back for a moment.

I was at a resort here in Lombok that I use frequently for my guests and waiting to meet a client. They hadn’t arrived yet, and it was time for salaah. I asked a staff member if I could use their Musallah tucked away for employees, a space they've graciously allowed me to pray in many times before Alhamdulillah. He said 'certianly Sir', with a warmth approval that I've now come to appreciate from these beautiful local people.

As I removed my shoes, another staff member walked past. I wasn’t sure if he was Muslim (yes Lombok is 90% Muslim, but there are also local non-Muslims as well). Maybe he was Muslim, maybe not? I greeted him anyway with "Assalaamu Alaikum… I’m just going to pray InshaAllah.”

He looked at me with a casual smile and replied, “Enjoy.”

That was it. One word. And SubahanaAllah, it stopped me cold.

Enjoy!?

What an odd word to use, right? Not “Ok,” not “Please go ahead,” not even a religious greeting.

Just, "Enjoy".

I smiled and nodded and answered with Terima kasih (Bahasa for thank you), walked into the Musallah and stood alone ready to pray. But that word was still echoeing in my mind. It sounded so strange and yet so… right.

"Enjoy?"

That’s not a word I usually connect with salaah. It caught me off guard. Not because it was inappropriate, because it wasn’t. It was kind, even thoughtful. But unfamiliar and uncommon and in its unfamiliarity, it stirred something in me, something profound.

"Do I actually enjoy my prayer?"

Yes, salaah is fard and we pray because Allah commands it. It’s the second pillar of Islam and we fulfill it because it is obligatory. But when was the last time we treated it as more than that? When was the last time we prayed with eagerness, happiness, contentment, not just discipline?

As I stood on the Musallah carpet that day, a quiet question emerged in my heart: Had I been praying… out of love? Out of longing? Out of joy? Or had I been praying because it was the right thing to do? Just routine, disciplined, and being dutiful, but detached from the emotion it was meant to bring?

The Prophet ﷺ didn’t pray like that.

He said:

“The coolness of my eyes was placed in the prayer.”

(Narrated by An-Nasai, 3940)

Not the heaviness of it. Not the difficulty. Not the burden. The coolness. The joy. The serenity.

That's what salaah meant to the Prophet ﷺ The place where his heart found rest Alhamdulillah.

And then I thought of how we, today, treat salaah. How often we sigh when the Athaan goes off. How often we squeeze it in between meetings or errands and how often we rush it, with hearts full of dunya, minds halfway elsewhere, and tongues barely conscious of the words we recite.

Maybe we’ve forgotten what a mercy it is. Maybe we’ve forgotten that salaah is not an interruption in our day but rather, is the purpose of our day.

Allah says:

“Indeed, I am Allah. There is no deity except Me, so worship Me and establish prayer for My remembrance.”

(Quran, Surah Taha 20:14)

It’s not about completing a ritual. It’s about remembering our Creator.

Returning to Him.

Realigning with our purpose.

Reconnecting our hearts after being pulled by the dunya in a thousand directions.

And in that moment of sujood, when your forehead touches the earth, that’s not symbolic.

That’s nearness.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The closest a servant comes to his Lord is when he is in prostration, so increase your supplications.”

(Sahih Muslim, 482)

There is no place on earth where the human being is lower physically and no place where the soul is higher spiritually. AllahuAkbar! Sujood is not just a movement of the body but a movement of the heart.

But how many of us treat our salaah like a mere transaction?

And maybe that’s why that one word, "enjoy", struck me so deeply. Because it reminded me of what salaah was always meant to be.

So since that day, I’ve started whispering a quiet reminder to myself before I begin each salaah.

"Enjoy"

Enjoy the calm.

Enjoy the stillness.

Enjoy standing before the One who sees your hidden pain and hears your silent duah.

Enjoy being seen.

Enjoy being heard.

Enjoy being chosen.

If you're struggling with your salaah, as we all do from time-to-time, if it feels heavy or dry or distant, don't ever give up. Don’t stop. But ask, beg, beseech. Ask Allah for its sweetness.

Say, “O Allah, make me love my salaah. Make it the coolness of my eyes. Make me taste the joy of standing before You.”

Because when it comes, even if only for a few moments, it changes everything.

Allah says:

“Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest.”

(Quran, Surah Ar-Rad 13:28)

What could be more complete than salaah, the ultimate form of remembrance? So now, when I say I’m going to pray, or I hear the Athaan, or I feel my forehead touch the floor during salaah, I go back to that one passing exchange.

That casual moment.

That one unexpected word.

And I say to my heart:

"Enjoy"