This Year Will Be Different

The Weary Heart #40

“Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.” (Qur’an 13:11)

I want to begin here because everything else hangs on this truth.

Not your circumstances first.
Not your fortunes.
Not the economy, your boss, your spouse, your past, or the timing of the world around you.

You.

What is within you. What you tolerate. What you keep postponing. What you secretly know you should have dealt with three years ago, but are still gently stepping around as if it might disappear on its own.

Every January we tell ourselves a story. This year will be different. We feel a flicker of energy, a wave of optimism, a sense that maybe, just maybe, we are standing at the edge of a new chapter. We imagine a healthier body, more khushu’ in our prayers, a savings account that no longer makes us anxious when we open the app. We picture a version of ourselves that is calmer, more disciplined, more focused, more present with the people we love.

And for a moment, it feels possible.

But here is the uncomfortable question I need you to sit with. What if this year becomes a carbon copy of last year? What if the same habits, the same excuses, the same delays quietly follow you from one calendar into the next? What if 12 months from now you are reading yet another “fresh start” message with the same personal disappointments tugging tightly in your chest?

Do you really want to feel that again?

I am not trying to shame you. I am asking because I care about the weight you carry when you realise time has moved, but you have not. That feeling when you say, “I knew I should have started,” and there is no one to blame. That regret when you see someone else make progress and you remember the version of you that once had the same fire, same ideas, same dreams, but chose avoidance or comfort one too many times.

Regret is heavy. It is much heavier than the discipline you’re avoiding. There’s a quote from the late Jim Rohn which I love:

We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces, while regret weighs tons.

Yup. It’s heavier than waking up early, than saying no to another unnecessary expense, than pushing through the awkwardness of building a new routine with Allah after months of inconsistency.

Discipline hurts in the moment. Regret lingers for years.

Imagine

Now let me show you the other side.

Imagine ending this year feeling proud of yourself. Not because everything went perfectly, but because you finally stopped negotiating with the parts of you that were keeping you small. Imagine stepping onto the scale and seeing numbers that reflect months of small, stubborn decisions to take care of your body.

Imagine opening your banking app and feeling relief instead of a knot in your stomach.

Imagine standing in prayer and noticing that your heart arrives faster than it used to, that your du’a feels more honest, that your relationship with Allah is no longer something you keep saying you will “fix soon”.

This is not fantasy. This is the natural result of inner change. And Allah has already told us the rule. Change what is within, and your condition follows.

But inner change is not one emotional night where you cry and promise to be a new person by Fajr. Inner change is quieter than that. It is a decision repeated when no one is watching. It is choosing a different response in a moment where you would normally fall back into the old one. It is catching yourself before the spiral. It is closing the tab. It is getting up when the alarm rings and your body begs for ten more minutes.

Let me tell you a story about what that kind of change looks like.

There was a man who once set out with rage in his chest and violence in his intention. His name was ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, and at that point in his life, Islam was something he despised. He saw it as a threat to the order he believed in, and he was ready to end the life of the Prophet ﷺ to stop it. Imagine the state of a heart that walks with that level of anger, that certainty that you are right and everyone else is wrong.

On his way, sword in hand, someone stopped him and told him that his own sister had embraced Islam. The shock alone must have shaken him. He changed direction and stormed to her house, fury rising with every step. Inside, his sister and her husband were learning verses of the Qur’an. When ‘Umar entered, the tension in the room was immediate. Words were exchanged. He struck his brother-in-law. He hit his own sister. And then he saw it. Blood on her face.

That sight broke something inside him.

The same man who had walked in full of aggression suddenly felt the weight of what he had done. He asked to read what they had been reciting. They hesitated, knowing his temper, but eventually handed him the parchment after he calmed himself. He began to read the opening of Surah Taha. The Words entered a heart that, for the first time in a long time, was not covered with pride.

As he read, the anger that had been driving him dissolved into something else. The man who had set out to kill the Prophet ﷺ now wanted to find him for a completely different reason. He went to Dar al-Arqam, where the Muslims were gathered. When they saw ‘Umar approaching, they were afraid. But he entered, declared his shahadah, and from that day on, his life turned in a direction no one could have predicted.

This was not a small adjustment. This was a total internal shift that transformed his entire path. The same personality, a man with the same strength and intensity, but he is now aligned with truth instead of his ego.

That is what happens when what is within changes.

The world outside changes accordingly.

I am not asking you to become ‘Umar r.a. in a single moment. I am asking you to learn from the principle his life shows us. A person is never too far gone to change direction. A year is never “just another year” if you decide that who you are inside will no longer stay the same.

So let us get specific.

If you want a healthier body, the change within is not just a gym membership. It is a new identity. You stop seeing yourself as someone who “tries sometimes” and start seeing yourself as someone who takes responsibility for their amanah. You learn to sit with discomfort instead of escaping it with food, with endless scrolling, with late nights that leave you drained and skipping your prayers. Every time you choose the harder option, you are not just burning calories. You are building a new self.

If you want savings in your account, the change within is not just a budget spreadsheet. It is a shift from impulse to intention. It is asking yourself before every purchase, “Is this moving me towards security or just feeding a momentary feeling?” It is being honest about the emotional spending you hide behind phrases like “I deserve this” while your future self carries the anxiety.

If you want a stronger relationship with Allah, the change within is not just more religious content or another set of notes from a lecture. It is humility. It is admitting that you cannot keep living on spiritual leftovers and expect your heart to feel alive. Choose to pray on time even when your schedule is tight. Proactively make du’a before you feel desperate. Sincerely turn back to Allah after you slip instead of using guilt as an excuse to drift away further.

All of this is available to you. But so is the other path.

The path where you read messages like this, feel inspired for a few minutes, and then return to the same patterns by evening. The path where you tell yourself you will start when things “settle down”. The path where you protect your comfort more fiercely than your dreams. The path where December 2026 arrives and you are once again sitting with regret.

I need you to picture that version of you too. The one sitting at the end of the year, knowing deep down that nothing really changed. Feel the disappointment in their chest. Feel the quiet comparison when they see others who moved forward. Feel the prayers they make asking for another chance to do what they already had the chance to do.

You are standing at that fork now.

This year will not be different because the number changed. It will be different if you change. If you decide that you are done being casual about your growth. If you decide that your goals are not decorations for your journal but responsibilities you answer for. If you decide that your relationship with Allah deserves structure, not just emotion.

I am walking this with you. I have my own habits to confront, my own comfort zones to push against, my own excuses that sound very reasonable in my head. But I refuse to let another year pass where I knew better and still stayed the same.

Let this be the year you respect your own potential. Let this be the year you stop waiting to “feel ready” and start acting your way into readiness. Let this be the year you change what is within, trusting the promise of Allah that your condition will follow.

A year from now, you will meet the result of the choices you are about to make.

Make sure it is someone you are proud to become.

With Love and Encouragement,
MW