Studying Arabic with a Full Life: When you're busy, broken, or both

It didn’t start in a classroom. It wasn’t part of a five-year plan. 

There was no desk, no schedule, no notebooks waiting to be filled. 

It started in chunks, 

some random broken moments, 

here and there,

Sometimes walking to work, wondering about the existence of life.

At other times, sitting in a cafe, and the sidewalks,

holding too much pain,

too much silence,

and way too many questions, I had no answers for.

If I look back 3 years ago, I would never have thought in my whole life, and my sane senses that I would not only be studying Arabic, but I would have come so far, SubhanAllah—the ways of God.

If you believe, I was frantically looking for, craving, wanting, crying for my heart to be at peace, free of misery, not in pain, and Allah put me into learning Arabic. I mean whaaaat?

Single mother. Two children, two jobs, two homes to take care of and one fragile body, learning to stretch into all the spaces life demanded of me. I was trying to earn halal income, trying to heal, trying to be enough for myself.

But, there always is a but….

But it wasn’t enough.

But, it didn’t feel enough.

There was something missing. 

Something I was looking for without knowing what it was..

Being a momin(believer), we all know what’s missing—the connection—you may not be able to shape it, or you may not find the words to explain it. 

This distance from your Lord—no matter how accomplished you are in life, no matter where you are living, what you are doing, how much you own, how much you give—nothing in the world can fill that void, nothing in the world can replace our innate instinct, our fitrah. 

That disrupted connection with Allah. 

I knew all that, and still I was not thinking about studying Arabic—you may not believe me, but, at that time, I swear I didn't even know something like that even existed, or would happen—me studying Arabic, the language of the Quran, the words of Allah. 

Because we have been taught since childhood that salah(prayer) is the only thing we have to do, and apparently reading the Quran is ibadah—who’s going to tell us that learning Arabic is also an intimate form of Ibadah(worshipping).

The envy; the one we all need.

But, one thing that would not let me sleep was, why do I not cry when I recite the Quran?

I envied people, everyone who I would see crying when they hear the Quran. 

The sahabas used to cry when they heard the Quran. 

We are so far from where they were, but we are not far from our Lord.

Ugh, this thought, this question—it would not let me sleep. 

Am I not a good enough Muslim?

Am I not reading it right?

Is my heart dead?

These questions would make my heart sad, aching all the time.

We all have our moments of utter despair—when we are at our lowest, broken, miserable—and I have been living in and through it for years now. And after that, we all have our moments of enlightenment, the moments we are held, and taken back—the moments there’s nothing left anymore. 

The seed of intention.

And in one of those moments, I realized that I would never be good unless I knew Arabic, knowing how the Quran works, how these words are combined in a way that no one can ever come up with something like this. 

Strange right? But this is something we all need—knowing that without Allah, without deen, without the basic knowledge of the language of the Quran, we will never be good enough. 

When Allah said gain knowledge till birth to grave, it wasn’t about getting a BS degree, or becoming a marketing expert—it first is about the deen, and then everything else comes. 

And what did we do? We left our roots, our basics, and we ran behind what’s so temporary. 

We left our permanent behind in gaining the temporary.

Abu Hurairah (May Allah be pleased with him) reported:

The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “The world, with all that it contains, is accursed except for the remembrance of Allah that which pleases Allah; and the religious schools and seekers of knowledge.”

We avoid effort and taking action, saying, let Allah put it in my heart. Allah never takes guidance away from the one who truly seeks it—but we have to take that first step.

And for me it was knowing, accepting, and telling myself that this is something I am incomplete without. 

Because, you know what it does to you? It ignites that agitation inside you that does not let you be at peace. 

Like when I first started praying all my five prayers, I mentally prepared myself, I internalized the fact that I will never be good unless I am praying all my five prayers. I told myself, without fulfilling the core, basic, foundational obligations, I will never be a good person, good Muslim, someone whom Allah loves. 

Because, no matter how much we give in charity, no matter how good we are with others, no matter we are supplicating astaghfar like ten thousand times in a day—if our five prayers that Allah has made obligatory,—if we are not doing the core work, nothing additional will ever be enough. 

You cannot reach the rooftop, if you have not taken that first step. 

So, I planted the seed—nothing will be right unless I study Arabic.

Because I didn't just want to read the Quran just as sound—I wanted to internalize it.

Because I wanted my eyes to cry when I recited the Quran—I wanted to feel it.

Because it had to connect to me on the soul-level, and not just the surface.

My intention wasn’t grand. 

I didn’t say, "I will master Arabic." I said, "I just want to understand it for the love of my Lord." 

That was it. 

That was everything. 

And maybe that’s where real learning begins—not with ambition, but with surrender.

The outcome and reward for our actions depend on our intentions. 

For me, learning Arabic wasn’t just studying. It is worship for me. It is the way I chose to stand in front of Allah with the little I have to offer. My imperfect and flawed attempts to praise my Lord, honor His mercy He bestows upon me, and pay gratitude for choosing me to embark on this sacred journey. 

Journal prompt: Why do I want to study Arabic?

(find your “why”)

And I just started studying Arabic; where and how to start

Before where and how, you must know your why—and that decides if you’d be able to do it or not.

I get questions all the time, how to stay motivated, where to start, I want to study Arabic, what should I do? 

You must know why you are doing it.

There always is that one thing in our life for which we are never ready to compromise. 

That one thing that keeps us going. 

That one thing without which everything else feels incomplete.

That one thing for which we are willing to sacrifice and let go of many things.

And, you need that one thing to be Arabic, if you speak about losing motivation.

SubhanAllah, I don’t know how, but Arabic became that one thing for me. If I look at myself, there is nothing in me to keep going like this, as I do now, with Arabic—it is Allah, it is that sincere pain in my heart that kept crying, screaming, aching, longing for the kind of love that never leaves, the love that holds you tight, the love that doesn’t let you fall, it comforts you, protects you, saves you from the misery of your own sorrows.

Before starting to learn Arabic, I made Arabic the purpose of my life. Like when you make a to-do or your priority list, and you mention the most important and focused tasks as the top—I wrote Arabic at the top for my life’s to-do list, and not just for one day or a week. I knew that now, from now on, no matter what happens, this is something that has to be one the top of my life.

Your motivation is not studying and just passing. 

Your motivation comes from your desire, and your intention.

I want to have a connection with the Quran.

I want to have a connection with Allah. 

When your why is clear and focused, you will find that motivation, or nothing else, is going to keep you motivated. 

Your motivation is the love of Allah.

Your motivation is the love for the Quran.

Your motivation is the beloved Prophet Muhammad(pbuh).

Your motivation is Jannah.

And still sometimes, we can’t show up motivated—just as our Iman(faith) keeps fluctuating, our study sessions can too—but you don’t leave salah, even when you don’t feel like it, right?

Motivation is a spark, but commitment is the flame that you tend when it gets dark.

The thing is that you just have to show up—not perfectly, but faithfully. 

On some days, I studied. 

On others, I simply sat with the longing. 

Both counted. 

Both were part of this journey.

You have been underestimating learning Arabic

If you don’t feel that spark(yet) to start and stay consistent with Arabic, you so underestimate the value of it—maybe it’s just another language for you now. 

Maybe it’s just starting a course, and completing it for you.

Maybe it’s just the pressure that you feel, to know Arabic.

If Allah doesn’t will, even our own tongues can’t say His name, His praise. 

If Allah does not will, we cannot even think of Allah, with our own minds, and hearts.

If you are choosing to learn Arabic, or just thinking about it, or just feel like starting, how can you not see that it’s not you, it’s Allah who chose you. He chose you for this. He wants this for you.

SubhanAllah, if I look at myself—my sins are more than the forgiveness I would ever have asked for.

My Lord, my Rabb, Allah’s  mercy is way more than the praise I could ever offer Him.

Allah’s love for me is way more than His rights I could never fulfill.

I have nothing, I deserve nothing—it is nothing but Allah choosing me for Him, choosing me despite my sins, my shortcomings, my flaws.

And when the only one who knows you the best, the only one who loves you the best, unconditionally, with mercy—gives you something—you take it with gratitude.

My Ustadzah used to say almost at the start of every lecture; be grateful before something is taken away from you, SubhanAllah. 

There are so many people who started, but couldn’t complete. 

There are so many people who never even started.

There are also so many people who never even thought about it.

And amongst all those people, if you are being chosen, you cannot afford to let this be taken away from you. 

SubhanAllah, this one thought—thinking, imagining that my Lord gave me something with so much love and then He took that away from me, for my ingratitude, my sins, my carelessness—is enough for all the motivation, intention, and effort you need in this world. 

A helping hand, a guiding light

If you’re at the beginning, or unsure if this path is even for you, or if you need someone to just tell you that you can do it—hear this: 

You don’t have to be perfect to start. 

You don’t need hours. 

You don’t need fluency in six months. 

What you need is willingness and love, of course.

Start with one surah. One verse. One word. Find a notebook. Make it sacred. Let it be messy. Let it be yours.

Create a ritual, not a routine.

Study after Fajr.

Or before bed.

Or in your car.

Make it an act of love, not labor.

And above all: forgive yourself. On the days you forget. On the weeks you pause. On the months you fall behind. Allah doesn’t count pages. He sees the heart behind them.

If you want to learn Arabic, stop comparing

Learning Arabic is a completely separate journey and experience for everyone—the sooner you understand this, the smoother your learning journey will be.

When we compare ourselves, our journey with others, we naturally get demotivated. 

Because we only see the outcome, not the struggles behind it.

We only see the destination, not the journey. 

Sometimes, I get lost in the same loophole—I have been studying Arabic for two years, and I have seen girls who are studying for just one year, and they are with me, and better than me at it—it’s not jealousy, I call it love. 

But, we forget that Allah tests everyone differently. 

Some are blessed with more time, and less understanding capacity.

Some are blessed with less time, but more money or resources.

Like, I can enroll in any course. I have the freedom to buy any book I like—what I don’t have is time—being a single full-time working parent. SubhanAllah. I have to earn and raise two kids—how can I compare myself with someone who is not married, does not have kids, and is studying Arabic full-time.

But know that, no effort. No struggle of yours is going to waste, if you are sincere in your journey. 

And Allah makes way for you by seeing your efforts.

Our Lord is the most merciful. For a married woman, or a mother, she gets more reward for taking care of her family than neglecting her kids and studying Arabic or any voluntary ibadah. 

So, do the math!

Enjoy your own journey! Again, it’s not about how much others are doing, it’s about how much better you are than your older self, and that’s the only comparison you must have. 

A Continuing Journey

If you have started before, and left it, or couldn’t study as you expected, or had to leave—this is not the end.

Three years in, and I still consider myself a beginner. The language still stretches me, still humbles me, still unearths parts of me I didn’t know needed healing. But I am here. Still whispering. Still reading. Still finding pieces of myself in these sacred words.

Sometimes, I am studying between work meetings. Sometimes during kids' homework breaks and Quran classes. Sometimes, I record Sarf tables on my phone, and listen to them when I go to bed—and some days, the hardest ones, I sit there in sorrow for not finding time to study.

I don’t remember when was the last time, I sat in peace and silence, took out my notebook, and had an intense study session(oh, I love these sessions, I feel like and wish to find that time of peace)—but never for once, I have ever thought I can’t do this.

or that I should leave it.

or that this is not something for me.

Not once!

Not once, since the day I started.

And that’s how Allah tests each one of us—some with time, others with money, health, heart, and desire—and surely Allah has more reward for your struggles. 

This journey isn't a checklist.

It's a companionship. One where the Book walks with you, and sometimes ahead of you, calling you gently back when you stray.

And if you’re somewhere on this path too, know that you’re not alone. We are many. Quietly learning, slowly loving, endlessly returning.

Come sit beside me. 

Tell me what you’re learning. 

Or what you’ve forgotten. 

Let’s walk each other home.

Read more about Arabic FAQs here.

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How did you start, and what helped you staying, share in the comments, and let's help others to overcome their fears and hesitation.