Blessed is He…
“And it is He who has made the night and the day in succession for whoever desires to remember or desires gratitude.”
(al-furqan 25:62)
“But those who have feared their Lord - for them are chambers, above them lofty chambers built high, beneath which rivers flow. [This is] the promise of Allah. Allah does not fail in [His] promise.”
(az-zumar 39:20)
𝙰𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.
During the day, sunlight breaks through the atmosphere colliding with air molecules, scattering shorter blue wavelengths more than red—creating the blue we see above, rayleigh scattering. At night even though the sun is simply below the horizon, and the Earth’s shadow stretches across the sky, traces of light remain. Faint glows. Quiet glimmers.
Science explains some of this. But maybe, it’s not what they say. Maybe, it’s actually love. Love being one of the many reasons why we can never rely on science.
Science measures the wave. It names the salt, charts the tide and counts the stars reflected in the sea. But love…love sails deeper. Unlike science, love is purposeful. Selfless. Not because it justifies itself but because it simply is. Science always searches for a reason for everything. But love, if your love had a reason, was it ever love to begin with?
This is the parting of ways: Science or Signs.
Science is grounded in explanation; love isn’t. Signs, just like love: speak in quiet reminders not answers, making them far more alike.
His signs are not here to satisfy our need for certainty, they are here to awaken our memory: A flicker in the sky just when you needed hope, a stillness in your chest that feels like being seen, a star shining brighter for no measurable reason. These are not proofs but echoes of love, of mercy, of nearness—of a God who loves not for reasons but beyond every reason to love and not to. So science or signs, you decide which is more beautiful.
Though, Allah doesn’t owe us such beauty. He didn’t have to make the sky a canvas or tuck hues into hours we’d sleep through but He did. He gave us eyes not just to find our way but to marvel. Not just to survive, but to see. To see color, To watch light bend and stretch and linger. He made beauty something we could witness, something we could feel.
That quiet blue? It’s not just a wash of color. It’s a sign. A subtle reminder that even when it feels like all is hidden, something remains. That even the night bear witness that He never stops giving. That this is what it means to truly see. Not just with the eyes, but with the heart tuned to what the eyes alone could never grasp, never fully understand.
Love made visible. In wavelengths. In wonder. In the endless mercy of a sky that still glows when we think the light is gone.
Tabaraka alladhi jaala fissamai buroojan wajaala feeha sirajan waqamaran muneera: Blessed is He who placed in the sky great constellations and placed therein a [burning] lamp and a shining moon.