In the Qurʾān we often see parallels between the sending down of rain and the sending down of waḥī (Divine Revelation). This parallel between the concrete and the abstract is common in the Qurʾān. It helps us visualise the effect of what we cannot see directly.
Imagine rain water. What happens when rain falls? It washes the surface of the ground; it removes the dirt; then it given life to a barren land.
When the words and the meanings of the Qurʾān pour down upon our heart this is the exact effect; the Qurʾān washes away the grime from our hearts, it polishes it and then gives life to it. This fertile heart then allows īmān to take solid roots and then grow and grow with each act of goodness. Each time you utter a kind word, or do a good deed, or withhold from a bad one, the tree of īmān is watered, so it grows and grows.
All of this is very straightforward, but you still have people complaining that they recite the Qurʾān and feel nothing. Nothing happens; nothing changes. Students of the Qurʾān complain that their hearts are unmoved, untouched by the Qurʾān.
Why does this happen?
Imagine that each time it rained, it rained only a few droplets every now and then. Will it have the same impact as the rain that pours down? Maybe the weather will become slightly better, perhaps a few specks of dust will be washed away… but then it will dry up and things will go back to normal.
In a very similar manner, for the Qurʾān to change the barren ground that is our heart, it has to pour down on it. A few droplets of it are good, but if you’re looking for change and if you’re looking for a heart that is thriving with life, then it has to pour down on it.
For many of us, the words and the meanings of the Qurʾān come in droplets. We read the Qurʾān once a week and then for the remainder of the week we’re not reciting it, and even if we’re reciting it we’re not pondering over it. Then there are those who are regular with reading the Qurʾān, but they stop thinking about the meanings of the Qurʾān the instant they close their muṣḥaf, so they go about their day with their hearts detached from reflecting on the āyāt of Allāh—the ones in His Book and the ones they see around them. The rain in each of these cases comes in droplets and occasional showers.
Allāh subḥanah wa taʿālā says in the Qurʾān,
﴾ يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا اذْكُرُوا اللَّهَ ذِكْرًا كَثِيرًا ﴿
﴾O you who have believed, remember Allāh with much remembrance.﴿ Al-Aḥzāb:41
And He says in praise of those who remember Him much,
﴾ وَالذَّاكِرِينَ اللَّهَ كَثِيرًا وَالذَّاكِرَاتِ ﴿
﴾…the men who remember Allah often and the women who do so.﴿ Al-Aḥzāb:35
The Qurʾān is the remembrance of Allah, and Allāh tells us how to do it: kathīra, in abundance—in gushing, pouring, streaming water—not droplets of it.
Ramaḍān is the most perfect opportunity for us to change our hearts by pouring down Qurʾān on it. To make matters easy, Allāh helps us by removing most distractions from our day through fasting—when you’re not fasting, you’re constantly thinking about what to eat and what to drink, and then when you eat and drink you have to deal with the ‘consequences’ of eating and drinking. Allāh frees you from that for the majority of this month, so don’t let this opportunity go to waste.
A third of the month is gone and the rest will soon follow, you still have time to salvage and nurture your heart, don’t slack now.
اللهم أمطر معاني القرآن في قرارة قلوبنا.
Allāh, let the meanings of the Qurʾān rain on the depths of our hearts.
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