Du’ā is the Essence of ‘Ibadah
The Prophet ﷺ said:
“Du’ā is worship itself.”
(Tirmidhi)
“Call upon Me; I will respond to you.”
(Qur’ān 40:60)
Du’ā is often described as the essence of ‘ibadah. That phrase alone is so profound. It means that at the heart of all our worship, all our rituals, all our acts of devotion lies this one simple, intimate, deeply personal act: calling upon Allah.
When you think about it, du’ā is the clearest sign of our servitude and dependence on Him. It is an admission that we are in need, that He is the One who can give, heal, guide, change, forgive, and provide. It is one of the most direct ways to demonstrate ubudiyyah (our servanthood) to Him.
Yesterday I found myself reflecting on du’ā and how it has, Alhamdulillah, become second nature to me. It is always my first response, my refuge, my comfort. Whether it is something big or small, du’ā is where I turn first. This is something I also try to teach in my du’ā workshops: to make du’ā not a last resort but our first port of call.
As I was thinking about this, I was struck by the mercy of Allah. He knows us so well. He knows that our hearts can be distracted, that the dunya can keep us busy and preoccupied, that we can become forgetful even of the things most essential to us. And so He, in His infinite mercy, gave us special times and opportunities that act like gentle reminders, nudges to reconnect, windows to call upon Him with greater hope and certainty.
Think about all the times He has told us our du’ās are more likely to be answered:
When it rains.
When the Adhān is being called, and between the Adhān and Iqāmah.
In the last third of the night.
On Jumu’ah, especially after Asr.
While travelling.
When breaking the fast.
In sujood.
When oppressed or wronged.
When visiting the sick.
These are not just “lists of timings” to memorise. They are mercy itself. They are opportunities given to us so that, even when we are forgetful or busy, we can be drawn back to Him. They are Allah’s way of saying: Here is another moment to speak to Me. Here is another door open for you. Come back. Ask. Connect.
It is such a beautiful and compassionate design. He knew we might take du’ā for granted. That we might forget to ask. So He didn’t leave us without reminders. He built these moments into our days, our weeks, our lives.
When the rain falls, it is not only water descending from the sky, but also an invitation for your pleas to rise. When the Adhān sounds, calling you to prayer, it is also calling you to call upon Him. On Fridays, He places a special hour when du’ā is not rejected, a precious window to pour our hearts out.
Isn’t this love? Isn’t this mercy?
It makes me think of a loving parent who knows their child so well. Who knows the child might forget to eat, so they call them to the table. Who knows they might not drink water, so they hand them a glass. Allah knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows our weaknesses. But instead of punishing us for them, He gives us more chances.
This is why du’ā is the essence of ‘ibadah. Because all worship is about recognising Him, turning to Him, showing need for Him, loving Him. Du’ā is that in its rawest, simplest form. It strips away everything else. No ritual movements, no set words if you don’t want them, just you and Him.
It is also deeply personal. Your du’ā is your private conversation with your Lord. It is where you can be completely honest, vulnerable, raw. Where you can say what you can’t tell anyone else. Where you can weep or be silent. Where you can ask for the greatest things or the smallest needs.
That is why I try to teach others to love du’ā, to use it daily, naturally, freely. To make it as instinctive as breathing. Because it truly is the lifeline of our faith. It is what keeps us connected. It is what softens the heart and strengthens the soul.
And Allah made it easy for us. He told us to call on Him. Promised He would answer. Gave us the best times. He never tires of us asking. In fact, He loves to be asked.
So let’s use those times. Let’s make du’ā a daily habit. Let’s teach our children and families to love it. Let’s see it not as a burden or a ritual, but as our greatest privilege. Because in du’ā we find hope, relief, comfort, healing and most of all, closeness to Allah.
May Allah make us people who love to call upon Him, who remember Him often, who take full advantage of these blessed times. May He accept our du’ās and make them a means for us to draw nearer to Him.