This series is a collaboration between Dr. Ali and MuslimMatters, bringing Quranic wisdom to the questions Muslim families are navigating.

Raising Children with Ikhlas in the Age of Social Media — Sincerity, Performance, and the Slow Drift

There is a parenting challenge that didn’t exist a generation ago — and most Muslim parents haven’t fully reckoned with it.

Your teenager is growing up in an environment where virtue is performed publicly by default. Where the good deed undocumented is the good deed that didn’t quite happen. Where the metric of whether something matters is whether people responded to it.

And you are trying to raise a Muslim whose good deeds are for Allah.

Those two realities are in direct tension. And tonight’s episode addresses that tension directly.

This guide is for the parent who wants to understand what their teenager received tonight — and how to reinforce it in a home environment that takes ikhlas seriously.

Why this topic is more urgent now than ever before

The Prophet ﷺ described riya — doing good for an audience other than Allah — as al-shirk al-asghar, the minor shirk. And he said it was what he feared most for his ummah — more than the major sins, more than the Dajjal.

His reasoning, as the scholars explain, is that riya is internal and invisible in a way that external threats are not. The Dajjal can be fled from. Riya has to be confronted within.

Your teenager’s generation faces this challenge at a scale no previous generation has encountered — because the architecture of their social environment is specifically designed to make riya the path of least resistance. Every platform they use rewards performance, visibility, and the optimization of content for audience response. Every metric they are surrounded by measures external validation.

This does not make your teenager uniquely corrupt or weak. It makes them human, in an environment specifically engineered to exploit the human desire for belonging and recognition. Understanding this should produce compassion, not judgment — and a commitment to giving them the tools the environment doesn’t provide.

What Qabil and Habil’s story teaches that most Islamic education misses

The story of Qabil and Habil is usually taught as a story about envy and murder — the first sin committed between human beings after the exit from Jannah.

But the Quranic account begins one step earlier than envy. It begins with the offering.

Habil brought his best — the finest of his flock, held nothing back. Qabil brought the lowest quality of his harvest — something he didn’t value, that cost him nothing real.

Allah accepted Habil’s offering and rejected Qabil’s.

The standard question asked about this story is: why did Qabil kill Habil? The more important question — the one that leads to the ikhlas lesson — is: why was Qabil’s offering rejected in the first place?

The scholars are clear: the rejection was not about the category of the offering — agricultural produce versus livestock — it was about the quality of what was given and the intention behind it. Habil gave his best because he was genuinely giving to Allah. Qabil gave his worst because he was going through a motion — performing the act of offering without the substance of it.

And when the performance was exposed — when the acceptance went to his brother and not to him — Qabil’s response was rage. The rage of someone whose performance didn’t get the reaction it was supposed to get.

That distinction — between the grief of sincere rejection and the rage of performance disappointed — is one of the most practically useful tools you can give your teenager for examining their own intentions. When your good deed doesn’t receive the response you hoped for, which reaction do you feel? That reaction is data.

The slow drift — what parents need to understand

One of the most important things tonight’s video communicates — and one that parents need to understand clearly — is that riya is almost never a decision. It is a drift.

Your teenager is unlikely to consciously choose to do their good deeds for an audience rather than for Allah. What is likely is that the drift will happen gradually, imperceptibly, through the accumulated effect of an environment that constantly rewards external validation.

The stages of the drift, as the classical scholars identified them:

It begins with a genuinely sincere act. Someone notices and responds positively. The positive response feels good — as it should; Allah created human beings to value belonging and recognition. The good feeling becomes part of the motivation. The motivation gradually becomes mixed. And eventually, without any single conscious decision, the deed is being done primarily for the audience.

The signal that reveals how far the drift has gone is the deflation that appears when a good deed goes unseen. When the prayer is made and no one notices. If that deflation is present — and significant — something has shifted in the foundation of the intention.

This signal is not a condemnation. It is information that can be addressed — through the practices the video described: the secret deed and the tajdid al-niyyah, the renewal of intention before each act.

Your role as a parent is to help your teenager develop the habit of self-examination that makes catching the drift possible before it goes too far.

The Imam al-Bukhari model — what to teach your teenager about legacy and ikhlas

The story of Imam al-Bukhari that tonight’s video tells is one of the most powerful illustrations of ikhlas in the Islam — and it deserves extended attention in your home.

Al-Bukhari arrived in Baghdad to the greeting of tens of thousands. He left alone, driven out by the envy of scholars who spread rumors about him. He returned to obscurity. He died in a small village with almost no one present.

Yet, before every single hadith he recorded — in what would become the most authenticated book in Islamic history after the Quran — he made ghusl, prayed two rakaat, and made istikharah regarding the authenticity of what he was about to record.

Every hadith. Ghusl. Two rakaat. Istikharah. For years.

That practice — invisible, unglamorous, known only to Allah — is the foundation of a book that a billion people have benefited from for a thousand years.

There is a conversation worth having explicitly with your teenager about this: the relationship between ikhlas and legacy. The deed done purely for Allah — without regard for audience, recognition, or immediate reward — carries a weight that nothing else does. Al-Bukhari’s work outlasted every critic, every rumor, every empty hall by a millennium.

Your teenager is building something right now. The question is what it is built on — and for whom.

The 59:19 warning for parents

Tonight’s video also introduced an ayah that deserves careful attention from parents as well as teenagers:

“And do not be like those who forgot Allah, so He made them forget themselves.” [59:19]

The application to parenting is direct and somewhat uncomfortable.

Muslim parents who are primarily raising their children for the approval of the community — whose primary anxieties are about what other Muslims will think, whose primary measures of success are whether their children appear religious enough in public — are, in a very real sense, modeling the very dynamic this ayah warns against.

If your teenager grows up in a home where Islamic practice is primarily performed for a community audience — where the question is always “what will people think?” rather than “does this please Allah?” — they will absorb that framework. And they will apply it to their own practice.

The ikhlas conversation begins not with your teenager, but with you. Are you modeling a relationship with Allah that is genuinely between you and Him — or a performance of religiosity for a community audience?

That question is worth sitting with honestly before the conversation with your teenager begins.

Practical guidance for parents

Create a culture of the secret deed at home. Make it a family practice to regularly do good things that no one will know about. Give sadaqah anonymously together. Do acts of service without documenting or mentioning them. Make the secret deed a normal, celebrated part of your family’s Islamic life — not the exception but the expected.

Talk about motivation explicitly. When your teenager does something good, make it normal to ask: what was behind that? This builds the habit of examining motivation, rather than just evaluating the action.

Separate Islamic practice from community performance carefully. Be intentional about which aspects of your family’s Islamic practice are for Allah and which are for community visibility. Where the two have become confused, work to disentangle them. Your teenager is watching.

Share the Bukhari story in full. Read it together. Ask: what would you have done in the empty hall? What does his response — “I came with an intention and I didn’t want to abandon my intention” — say about what ikhlas actually looks like under pressure?

Discussion questions for families

For teens:

1. When was the last time you did something good that no one knows about? How did it feel compared to things people saw?
2. What does al-Bukhari’s response in the empty hall — “I came with an intention and I didn’t want to abandon my intention” — mean to you personally?

For parents:

1. Are you modeling ikhlas for your teenager — or are you modeling the performance of religiosity for a community audience? Be honest.
2. How does your family handle public recognition of good deeds? Do you celebrate the secret deed as much as the visible one?
3. When your teenager’s good deed goes unnoticed or unappreciated — how do you respond? Do you reinforce Allah’s awareness, or do you focus on the injustice of the lack of recognition?

For discussion together:

1. Read Al-Ma’idah 5:27 together — the story of Qabil and Habil’s offerings. What does Habil’s response tell you about what ikhlas actually looks like under pressure?
2. What is one practice our family can build together to protect and strengthen our ikhlas?
3. If no one ever saw or knew about any good deed our family did — would we still do them with the same effort and care?

The bottom line

Your teenager is growing up in an environment where the performance of virtue is not just possible, but sadly, the default. Where every good deed can be documented, shared, and measured by audience response.

In that environment, ikhlas — doing good for Allah alone — is not the path of least resistance. It is a spiritual discipline that has to be actively cultivated, protected, and practiced.

The tools exist. The secret deed. The check of the deflation feeling. Tajdid al-niyyah. The example of al-Bukhari in the empty room.

Give your teenager those tools. Model them yourself. Build a home where the question is always: who is this for?

The One who was watching before anyone else was — is still watching. And His reward does not require a caption.

Continue the Journey

This is Night 24 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.”

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 25 — What Will You Leave Behind? Legacy, sadaqah jariyah, and planting trees whose shade you won’t sit in.

For daily extended reflections with journaling prompts, personal stories, and deeper resources, join Dr. Ali’s email community: https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com/

Related:

Your Place in the Ummah | Night 23 with the Qur’an

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post The Why Behind Our Actions | Night 24 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Ramadan has a way of surfacing what we usually manage to keep buried. 

Through our constant snacking, scrolling, and background noise playing, we rely on small escapes throughout the day without noticing. When this blessed month arrives and strips away our regular coping mechanisms, the old grief, the shorter fuse, and the fatigue suddenly loom. The self remains exposed and, for many, pained and unsettled.

The Qur’an Foreshadows Difficulty – and Trains Us for It

Ramadan’s intensive schedule mirrors the discomfort and disruption that life’s trials bring to the believer. 

How beautiful then, that Allah frames Ramadan as the month of the Qur’an [Surah Al-Baqarah 2:185], which repeatedly returns us to sabr (patience, steadfastness, endurance) in moments of difficulty. The Qur’an does not mention patience once but returns to it again and again, as if anticipating how quickly we succumb to pain:

 

“And be patient, [O Muhammad], and your patience is not but through Allah . And do not grieve over them and do not be in distress over what they conspire.” [Surah An-Nahl 16:127]

“So be patient. Indeed, the promise of Allah is truth. And let them not disquiet you who are not certain [in faith].” [Surah Ar-Rum 30:60]

 

“O you who have believed, persevere and endure and remain stationed and fear Allah that you may be successful” [Surah ‘Ali-Imran 3:200]

“O my son, establish prayer, enjoin what is right, forbid what is wrong, and be patient over what befalls you. Indeed, [all] that is of the matters [requiring] determination.” [Surah Luqman 31:17]

“And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient” [Surah Al-Baqarah 2:155]

Patience is not the Absence of Pain

These verses do not promise exemption from pain; rather, they soberly remind us to expect difficulty. However, the Qur’an does promise orientation within the pain through the practice of sabr, inviting us into an active spiritual effort. The Qur’an illustrates that the one who demonstrates patience actively resists the narratives that pain tempts us to believe: that we have been abandoned, that we are deserving of punishment, that this pain is meaningless, that ease must be sought immediately at any cost. In other words, we understand that patience does not magically remove pain, merely that impatience (i.e., panic, despair, agitation) compounds it. Patience involves staying upright in the midst of discomfort without surrendering to despair, resentment, or a diminished opinion of Allah . 

The Prophet ﷺ embodied this understanding of patience. When people came to him, overwhelmed by hardship, his counsel was often simple and direct: be patient. Nowadays, some may misinterpret such advice as a platitude or a dismissal of pain. However, neither the Qur’an, nor the Prophet ﷺ, romanticize suffering. Rather, the teachings from the Qur’an and sunnah explicitly suggest that personal growth, purification (tazkiya), and moral formation are all benefits to be earned from practicing patience. 

Why Modern Life Is Making Us Spiritually Brittle

This approach stands in stark contrast to modern life, which sells us instant escape at every moment. Comfort, convenience, and immediate gratification beckon to us, quietly compel us to soothe every discomfort, even at the lowest level. As a result, we collectively lose our tolerance for difficulty, leaving us increasingly brittle and emotionally dysregulated. 

True sabr, as our scholars have taught, invites an inner struggle to remain intact when everything in the lower self (nafs) demands immediate relief. Through purposeful steadfastness, sabr disciplines the nafs. Fasting in Ramadan is our 30-day invitation to forgo our usual appetitive coping mechanisms in search of higher self-based modalities until the relief of the adhan at Maghrib echoes through the speakers. Ramadan, then, recalibrates our relationship to discomfort itself. 

Sabr and Self-Soothing: Two Languages for the Same Work

But what does it look like to be patient? How does one actually do that? In contemporary therapeutic language, the ability to regulate one’s nervous system in moments of stress without resorting to numbing or dismissive behaviors requires self-soothing. Self-soothing may very well be the modern adaptation of sabr in that it is about containment, allowing a person to remain present and grounded even in the midst of pain. 

Practicing self-soothing might look like deliberately pausing to breathe before responding right away to a message that triggers anxiety (i.e., heart rate spikes, thoughts race). The message remains, but you meet it from a place of steadiness rather than pain. Practicing self-soothing might also look like accepting that a season of life has shifted, when “home” has moved, and what once felt close now feels distant. There is grief in that awareness, and time cannot reverse the movement. Self-soothing offers the quiet work of tenderly cradling what feels heavy.

As a tradition, Islam understands patience as an active spiritual discipline. Shaykh ad-Darqawi once captured the concept of sabr with disarming clarity when someone was overwhelmed with dismay, stating, “Relax your mind and learn to swim.” Sabr, practiced through self-soothing, asks us to breathe deeply, trust that we are being carried, and remain afloat even when sometimes all we can manage is to keep our head above water.

Practices That Strengthen Spiritual Endurance

Suggestions for self-soothing practices abound. Anyone looking for self-soothing techniques rooted in an Islamic paradigm may strengthen their ability to endure through the following:

• Regulating breath: Slow, intentional breathing is one of the most effective ways to calm the nervous system and quell spiraling thoughts. I like to pair breathwork with remembrance through dhikr, anchoring every breath in the Divine Presence.
• Physical containment: Therapeutic practices recommend a self-hug to create a sense of safety. One may wrap oneself in one’s arms or use a weighted blanket to wrap around the body. We remember that Sayyida Khadija enfolded the Prophet ﷺ in a cloak following the frightening encounter in the cave. 
• Repetition and ritual: Ritual grounds and comforts us. Fixed acts such as wudu and salah – when the body instinctively moves from muscle memory – provide stability when external circumstances scream instability. 
• Grounding through sound: Sound, or melody, has a powerful regulatory effect on the brain. The Qur’an – literally translated as The Recitation – describes itself as a shifa, or healing. The melodic recitation of the Qur’an provides spiritual and neurological stability. 
• Meaning: Distress intensifies when pain feels random or meaningless. After one uses the above somatic therapies to contain the pain felt in the body, one may move into reframing the hardship as purposeful. The Qur’an consistently explains that Allah sees our struggle, our pain, and is with us through it all. Sabr sustains this meaning, reminding us that nothing is lost with The Most Compassionate.

When Meaning and Melody Carry Us

The last two suggestions in this list provide the motivation behind “The Trials Playlist,” a small collection of Qur’anic chapters to play on audio when we find ourselves in the midst of hardship. Think of each chapter listed as a “track,” not in a trivial sense, but as points of return when in need of melody and meaning. Each “track” can be listened to in Arabic, allowing the cadence of recitation to do its neurological and spiritual work, or in English (for example, through The Clear Quran app), so the meanings can be received directly.

The playlist is by no means a fixed list, only my personal go-tos in my work as a chaplain. Reader, you should feel free to substitute chapters that speak to you personally. But for those who want somewhere to begin, here is a starting list.

The Trials Playlist, or Qur’an Chapters for Hard Days Access the ready “playlist” here.

• Al Fatiha (The Opener) – The anchor chapter, nicknamed Al-Shifa (The Healing), we return to again and again, often described as an intimate conversation between Lord and servant. We begin here to welcome Allah’s blessings and Divine openings as we seek Him.

Centering verse: “You [alone] we worship and You [alone] we ask for help.” [1:5]

• Ad-Duha (The Morning Hours) – Revealed to Prophet Muhammad after a painful pause in revelation as reassurance that silence is not abandonment and a reminder that Allah is always there. 

Centering verse: “Your Lord has not abandoned you, nor has He become hateful of you.” [93:3]

• Ash-Sharh (The Relief) – Closely paired with Ad-Duha in meaning and comfort, providing a reframe of hardship as an experience that carries ease within it, encouraging us to look for the ease in the midst of the difficulty. 

Centering verse: “Surely with hardship comes ease.” [94:5]

• Yusuf (Joseph) – A poignant narrative of overcoming immense adverse experiences through sustained patience and trust in Allah’s unfolding Mercy. It also honors grief in the story of Ya’qub and his model of endurance. 

Centering verse: “I complain of my anguish and sorrow only to Allah.” [12:86]

• As-Sajda (The Prostration) – A sobering reminder of Allah’s Majesty and complete Governance. For those feeling wronged and unseen, it restores moral clarity. 

Centering verse: “It is Allah Who has created the heavens and the earth and everything in between in six Days, then established Himself on the Throne. You have no protector or intercessor besides Him. Will you not then be mindful?” [32:4]

• Ta-Ha – Known for the account connected to Umar ibn al Khattab’s turning point toward Islam. A steadying surah for those feeling overwhelmed. Heartfelt reminder that Allah sees all of our trials and challenges, and He is preparing us for our destiny. Every story within repeats the lesson that whoever walks this path with Allah as their Companion will find every obstacle surmountable. 

Centering verse(s): “You are always watching over us.” [20:35] … “So We reunited you with your mother so that her heart would be put at ease, and she would not grieve. ˹Later˺ you killed a man ˹by mistake˺, but We saved you from sorrow, as well as other tests We put you through. Then you stayed for a number of years among the people of Midian. Then you came here as pre-destined, O  Moses!” [20:40]

• Al-Kahf (The Cave) – A weekly stabilizer (encouraged to read on Fridays) that trains us in priorities and how to conduct oneself in the midst of challenges. In particular, the story of Musa with the righteous teacher provides an important perspective about tests, trials, and Allah’s intricate Plan. Musa’s teacher repeatedly reminds Musa (and, by extension, all of us) to practice patience in the face of what we cannot comprehend.

Centering verse: “How can you be patient with what is beyond your knowledge?” [18:68]

• Al-Hadid (The Iron) – A teacher once advised me to read this surah when I feel depleted because the chapter’s name suggests strength and fortification, provided through multiple reminders of the akhirah as our ultimate goal. It reassures us that what is meant for us will reach us, and what reaches us is never fully ours anyway. 

Centering verse(s): “No calamity [or blessing] occurs on earth or in yourselves without being written in a Record before We bring it into being. This is certainly easy for Allah. [57:22] “We let you know this so that you neither grieve over what you have missed nor boast over what He has granted you.” [57:23]

I pray that each of these chapters offers you companionship, a way to remain present with pain. This patient presence includes an ongoing effort to regulate the self without abandoning trust in God, to endure discomfort without fleeing meaning, and to remain oriented toward the Divine when relief is slow to appear. 

 

Related:

– The MuslimMatters Ramadan Podcast Playlist 2025

– Quranic Verses For Steadfastness For The Valiant Protesters On Campus

The post The Trials Playlist: A Chaplain’s Set To Steady Your Heart appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

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