Then one night, I picked up a pen.
I knew I wasn't alone in that. I also knew I didn't want to keep living that way. One night I was tracing an ayah by hand. I don't even remember why. But something happened that hadn't happened in years of trying to read consistently — I slowed down. I was present with the words. I wasn't reading at the verses; I was sitting with them, letter by letter.
And it made me wonder how many other people were stuck where I had been, looking for a way back in that didn't feel like failure.
That's why these books exist.