The Art of Seeking Guidance: Lessons in Surrender

The Art of Seeking Guidance: Lessons in Surrender

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Life is a series of choices, some small like pebbles tossed into a stream, others monumental like crossroads that change everything. The weight of decision-making can be overwhelming, yet the truth is, we were never meant to figure it all out alone.

Istikhara is more than just a prayer; it’s an act of surrender, a way of laying our uncertainties before the One who sees beyond what we can. My grandmother, Celestine, drilled this into me early on. She told me that while we often associate Istikhara with life-altering choices marriage, careers, major purchases it’s just as crucial for everyday decisions. We need divine guidance just as much in the small things as in the big ones.

But she also reminded me of something else: Istishara the practice of seeking advice from people who walk closely with the Creator. Our Elders understood that wisdom isn’t meant to be hoarded; it’s meant to be shared. They consulted those whose hearts were tethered to divine truth, ensuring that their choices weren’t dictated by fleeting emotions but by deep, seasoned insight.

Yet, I can’t count the times I ignored both. I’ve marched forward, chest puffed up, convinced I had all the answers. My ego whispered, "You’ve got this. You don’t need anyone’s input. You know best." And so, I moved ahead no prayers, no counsel just blind confidence. And more times than I care to admit, I ended up flat on my face, scrambling to fix the mess I created. Only then would I run back, desperate for the same guidance I had arrogantly brushed aside.

One of the biggest mistakes I ever made? Chasing a paycheck over purpose. I took a job solely because it paid well. It wasn’t about fulfillment or aligning with my spirit it was about stacking my bank account. And for a while, it felt amazing. I had cash to burn, dressed sharp, drove a sleek car, and even smelled like success. I could take trips on a whim, spoil myself, live large. In my mind, I had made it.

But somewhere in the middle of all that, I lost track of time. Not just hours and days, but sacred moments. My prayers? Rushed at best, nonexistent at worst. My connection to the Creator? Fading. The people who mattered? Pushed to the back burner. And I didn’t even notice until one day, I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.

I had built a life that looked good on the outside but felt hollow on the inside. All the things I thought would make me feel powerful only left me feeling lost. The money, the clothes, the car it all meant nothing when my spirit was running on empty.

My mother, Marva, used to say:

"Don’t be so busy chasing what you want that you forget to ask if it’s even meant for you. We plan, but the Creator’s plan is always greater."

She taught me a simple but powerful prayer:

"Creator, I don’t trust my own judgment. I know my vision is limited. Please, guide me. If this path is for me, open the doors wide. If it’s not, block it completely. Align my heart with what’s right, not just what’s easy."

To anyone reading this: Don’t rush. Don’t base your choices on pressure, pride, or temporary highs. Take a step back. Get quiet. Strip away the noise, the ego, the impatience. Take off the weight of expectation like shoes at the door. Leave your biases, your frustrations, and your need for control behind. Just sit. Be still. Listen. The Creator is always speaking we just have to be willing to hear.

I’ve learned this the hard way. I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn, so convinced that I knew best. But grace is a beautiful thing, and it’s never too late to recalibrate, to surrender, to let wisdom not impulse lead the way.

May we all learn to move, not with reckless certainty, but with faith. Not with arrogance, but with surrender. Not with blind ambition, but with divine clarity.