Taqwā: Keeping God in mind and living carefully because of it
Taqwā names the quiet carefulness of a person who keeps God in view. When the people around them have concluded that faithfulness earns nothing, that carefulness is the only thing still holding the line. No proof arrives to settle the argument, and the care itself keeps them steady, since it concerns how they live rather than what they receive.
Ṣuḥba: Keeping company with people who want the same thing
Ṣuḥba is the Sufi word for that kept company. Doubt grows fastest in private, where a person turns it over alone and slowly loses the thread. Speaking to someone who cares about the same thing changes its weight, because two people can hold up a conviction that one alone would drop.
Whoever remembers Me in a gathering, I remember him in a better gathering: the talk is joined, not merely overheard
A saying of the Prophet gives God's own words here. People who talk about God together usually assume the conversation stays in the room, small and easily missed. Their words carry further than that, and the circle they sit in is answered by a larger one they cannot see.
Your cry of O Lord is itself My answer, Here I am: the asking already holds the reply
Rumi tells of a man who stopped calling on God because nothing ever came back, and was given this line. The ache under it is familiar: a person speaks, nothing arrives, and they begin wondering whether anyone is listening. The reply points to the pull that made them speak at all, so being able to keep calling is itself the sign they wanted.
Al-Lawḥ al-Maḥfūẓ: the Preserved Tablet, the record where nothing is lost
Al-Ghazali and Ibn Arabi both describe a record in which nothing gets lost. Faithfulness that nobody applauds feels like it evaporates, especially when the people cutting corners seem to do fine. A record like that means the days that looked like nothing were being counted all along, whether or not anyone nearby saw them.