Does Closeness to Allah Really Require Hardship and Suffering?

A comment was recently left on my article, "When the Soul Is Tired of Living: A Sufi Perspective”, that brought up something many of you have also shared with me privately in my DMs over the years.

It is a concern I have heard in different forms, yet I don't believe I have ever properly explored or clarified it publicly.

The commenter shared that when they read about one of my suggested duʿas, “May Allah use all of me for His purpose,” they felt a genuine desire to make the same duʿaʾ for themselves. But when they tried, fear stopped them.

With greater self-awareness, they had come to recognize that not all of their pain was necessarily a result of serving Allah; some of it had also come from their own lack of knowledge, emotional regulation, and mistakes.

And yet, the fear remained, begging the same question I used to wrestle with:

Would asking Allah to use me for His purpose also mean asking Him to test me?

If we know that Allah created us to worship Him (Qur'an 51:56), does dedicating our lives to Him mean that our lives have to be difficult and full of trials and hardship?

The commenter also brought up an important Prophetic teaching: that we should ask Allah for ʿafiyah (well-being, protection, safety) rather than seeking out hardship, just as the Prophet ﷺ taught his companions not to wish for battle, but to ask Allah for safety and well-being, and to remain steadfast if battle was necessary.

An important thing to note is how the Prophet ﷺ distinguished between seeking/asking for safety and responding faithfully when hardship actually comes.

The same comment expressed something that I believe lies at the heart of this entire conversation:

Why have we come to associate walking the path of serving Allah so strongly with pain and suffering?

Perhaps it is because when we look at the stories of the Prophets, we repeatedly encounter immense trials. We hear that the people closest to Allah were tested severely. We hear that Allah tests those whom He loves.

And somewhere along the way, these teachings can become an unconscious equation in our minds:

The closer I get to Allah, the more I will suffer.

I personally remember days when I was surrounded by hardship, suffering, immense pain, and darkness, desperately asking Allah to help me understand why, if all I wanted was to be close to Him, I needed to endure so much pain.

I believe anyone who genuinely wishes to draw closer to Allah may find themselves asking this question, because the desire to surrender to Him can seem to coexist with a fear of what that surrender might mean for our lives.

How many changes will we have to endure? How many tears, losses, goodbyes, and heartaches will we have to go through?

From my own experience, I can tell you that it is often far more dramatic in our minds than what Allah actually asks of us as His sincere servants.

So much of that fear comes from the nafs (our ego)—the part of us that wants to remain in control. It can make surrender seem far more frightening and unappealing than it actually is, keeping us suspended in that uncomfortable threshold between surrendering and holding back.

We may want to say, “Allah, use me. Use all of me and my life for something meaningful. Let me be of service to You.”

But another voice quietly asks:

What if that means suffering?

What if Allah takes something from me?

What if I am given a trial I cannot handle?

What if getting closer to Allah means my life becomes harder?

I think this fear deserves to be examined—not because the Prophetic teachings about trials are wrong, but because we may have drawn a conclusion from them that Islam never intended us to draw.

Does closeness to Allah really require suffering?

And if it does not, then what does it actually mean to surrender ourselves to Him?

Does Allah test those He loves?

There are authentic hadith that tell us the Prophets were among those most severely tested.

The Prophet ﷺ was asked which people are most severely tested. He ﷺ replied:

“They are the prophets, then the next best, then the next best. A man is put to trial according to his religion. If he is firm in his religion, his trials will be more severe. If he is weak in his religion, he is put to trial according to his strength in religion. The servant will continue to be put to trial until he is left walking upon the earth without any sin.” (Sahih — authentic according to al-Albani)

These teachings are profound. But when we read them with our physical eyes and our minds, rather than with the spiritual eyes of the soul, they can evoke fear and hesitation.

The mind struggles to reconcile the idea that growing stronger in our religious commitment can lead to greater trials, because we have come to associate trials primarily with pain and suffering.

Yet what is often left unexplained is that almost everything in our lives can be a trial.

My ability to write and think right now is a trial. Your ability to read these words and choose whether or not to apply them to your life is a trial. Your ability to work, learn, rest, create, or even have fun can be a trial.

Your wealth is a trial. Your children are a trial. Your relationships are a trial. Your health is a trial. Even the blessings we barely notice can be trials.

So why does our mind so quickly associate the word “trial” with the most painful scenarios imaginable?

Why do we instinctively picture loss, grief, illness, heartbreak, and suffering when we hear that Allah will test us?

Perhaps because we have unconsciously reduced the meaning of a trial to something that hurts.

But a trial is simply something through which we are tested.

And sometimes, what tests us is not what is taken away from us, but what we are given.

A trial can coexist with Allah's love

The pain of an experience can become an unveiling of what has been blocking our spiritual vision. Such experiences can contain purification, transformation, reward, and a deeper relationship with Allah because, through this unveiling, we are often invited to mature in our perceptions, beliefs, and understanding.

But we must be careful about what these hadith about trials do not say.

They do not give us a formula by which we can measure someone's closeness to Allah.

They do not say:

The more you suffer, the more beloved you are to Allah.

And they certainly do not tell us to seek suffering in order to become spiritually elevated.

This distinction matters deeply because once we begin to believe that suffering itself is evidence of spiritual superiority, we can create a painful and unhealthy relationship with hardship.

We may romanticize pain. I used to do this at a very unconscious level, which is why it was so difficult for me to open myself up to tranquility, fun, or simply allowing things to go well.

We may stay in situations that are harming us because we believe leaving would somehow mean failing a test. We may feel guilty for wanting healing, safety, ease, or happiness.

But we cannot look at another person's suffering and determine their spiritual rank before Allah.

Suffering is not a spiritual ranking system.

It is what each of us does with our trials—how we respond through our deeds—that can bring us closer to Allah or further away from Him (Qur'an 67:2).

In my case, all the painful experiences that I used to believe would simply appear out of nowhere, no matter how “good” I thought I was, became opportunities for purification and the excavation of immense distortions in my beliefs that I was not even aware I was carrying.

I explore this more deeply here: Suffering: A Disruptor of Illusion

Not everyone is carrying the same degree of distortion, trauma, inherited fears, and limiting beliefs that can prevent them from understanding and practicing Islam as a path that frees the soul and inspires us to do good in the world, rather than imprisoning it.

This is why Allah is Al-Qadir from the root q-d-r (ق د ر) the One who gives everything in precise, exact measure. Everything we receive and everything that is taken away from us is perfectly measured.

When I contemplate the precise measure of the trials He has given me, I can honestly say that I still tear up with gratitude and awe. I can see how many experiences that initially felt like they were simply too painful to bear were, in fact, precisely measured.

At the time, I would think the pain was too much, yet Allah, in His infinite kindness and mercy, kept reminding me that I would never be given anything beyond what I could bear (Qur'an 2:286)

Holding tightly to that promise of His is what eventually led me to think: "If Allah knows that I can handle what I perceive as immensely painful and almost impossible to bear, perhaps I am simply blinded to my own capacity. I need to strive to discover it for myself."

Every test or hardship is carefully chosen by Allah to match your inner strength.

And this is how I came to discover that I absolutely love reminding others of the immense wisdom and perfect measure woven into every challenging moment we face.

Hardship is not the only way Allah draws us near

To conclude, for us regular mortals who are not prophets, hardships may come according to how much unveiling we need to undergo in order to recognise the shape and magnitude of our own ego, while also awakening to the immense capacity within us to live from nafs al-mutmaʾinnah (the soul at peace) that Allah refers to as the best possible return to Him in Qur'an (89:27-28).

Also, to live empowered by Allah's love, mercy, and strength, so that we no longer feel the need to worship anything but Him.

If there is a part of you that is afraid to pray, “Allah, use me as You will,” because you fear that Allah will respond by taking everything away from you, please know that you are not alone.

Many of us have internalized this fear.

But Allah does not need your suffering in order to use you.

He can use your joy.

He can use your healing.

He can use your creativity.

He can use your knowledge.

He can use your compassion.

He can use your story.

He can use the very things that have come to life within you after you stopped merely surviving.

Nothing is beyond Allah's ability to transform.