Tawakkul: The art of letting go or simply surrender?
22 July 2026
I’ve been waiting for good news about a job offer for almost two weeks now. The entire recruitment process has taken about two months so far.
A friend told me about the vacancy in late May, and I submitted my CV immediately after her call. A few days later, the director contacted me. About two weeks after that, I had my first interview, followed by a second interview another two weeks later. At the end of it, she asked me to wait a few more days for a decision that was apparently not in her hands.
I left my previous job exactly 32 days ago. It was a great place for anyone who wanted to grow and learn about school-based management, something I had been looking for in case my luck as an English teacher ever ran out. Mind you, I never majored in English, yet most of my professional career has been in English teaching. My PhD is in Education, and my dissertation focused on teacher professional development.
Anyway, when I decided to leave that job—for a couple of reasons I can’t really disclose—I only had this interview with the director as my safety net. I didn’t have much money saved, and I spent most of it on travel expenses and relocating my cat to my hometown. After coming home, I spent even more on home improvements and on travel expenses for my mom’s medical check-ups. So, I’m on a tight budget at the moment.
That makes this waiting period a lot harder.
My first English teaching job at an NGO—one very similar to the one I’ve applied to—was amazing. The recruitment process was long as well. I applied in June and received the offer in early August. But I was still finishing my PhD at the time, so waiting wasn’t as difficult. Even after graduation, I had to wait another three months before I could finally start working there. They recruited teachers about four months before the actual start date.
Perhaps that is why I keep coming back to the word tawakkul. People often translate it as "trust in Allah" or "reliance on Allah," but to me, it carries a deeper meaning than patience. Patience is about enduring what is happening. Tawakkul is surrendering the outcome after making every effort—or even before making any effort at all—because you believe Allah knows what is best for you. The effort itself is merely a bridge to show Allah what you want and that you care about it. Not because He needs to know, but because you need to act on what you hope for while accepting that the result has never been yours to decide.
I realize that what I need to let go of is not this particular job.
It is the need to control the outcome.
The need to know with certainty.
The need to control what's out of my control.
That sounds simple in theory. In practice, it is much harder.
When your savings are slowly shrinking, tawakkul does not mean pretending everything will magically work out. It means managing your finances wisely with the savings you have left while believing that Allah will not leave you hungry. Trust is not an excuse to abandon responsibility. If anything, it demands even more responsibility while reminding you that your provision ultimately comes from Him.
Sometimes I wonder how I would feel if the director called today and said they had chosen another candidate. Honestly, I think what would hurt the most would not only be the rejection itself, but also the long wait that led to it. And perhaps, if I am being completely honest, I would also grieve all the "good signs" I thought I saw along the way. Every encouraging conversation, every positive impression, every little detail that I quietly interpreted as evidence that things were going in my favor. Looking back, maybe I was simply trying to write the ending before the story had finished.
If Allah had already written the outcome long before I even knew this vacancy existed, why is waiting still so difficult?
Because I still want it.
Sometimes I tell myself that Allah knows what is better for me, yet deep inside I still want something else. I trust His wisdom, but I also hope that my own plans will work out. To accept that what I want may not be what is best for me, while still wanting it with all my heart, kind of hurts.
Maybe that is what tawakkul really is.
Not the absence of hope.
Not the absence of disappointment.
Not even the absence of fear.
It is choosing to place all of them in Allah's hands anyway.
I am still learning what that looks like. Perhaps this season of waiting is part of the lesson.
