I would never see my sons again.

They were kept in Saudi Arabia, absorbed into the family system, told their mother had died of a sudden illness.

I later learned through encrypted channels that they were being raised by Fisel’s sister, taught that their mother had been a good Muslim who died in God’s favor, never knowing the truth.

The grief of that loss is something I carry every single day.

They are eight and six now, growing up without me, being shaped by the same system that tried to kill me, learning the same rigid interpretation of Islam that had imprisoned me.

Sometimes I dream about them, wake up calling their names, feel the phantom weight of their small bodies in my arms.

The pain of losing them is a wound that will never fully heal in this life.

But I also carry something else.

The knowledge that Jesus saved me both spiritually and physically.

He saved my soul from sin and death.

And he saved my body from fire through the courage of my brother and the intervention of people I’d never met who cared about religious freedom.

I was granted asylum in the United States and settled in Texas where there’s a large Christian community experienced in helping refugees from Islamic countries.

A church in Dallas, Restoration Church, sponsored me, helping me adjust to American life, providing housing and support and patience as I learned to function in a completely foreign culture.

The culture shock was enormous and overwhelming.

I had never driven a car.

I learned at age 30.

I had never worked a job.

I had to learn basic employment skills.

I had never lived alone.

I had to learn to cook, to clean, to manage money, to make even the smallest decisions for myself.

Everything from grocery shopping to using public transportation to understanding American social customs was new and frightening.

But I also experienced freedom for the first time in my life.

And I could wear what I wanted.

I chose to wear modest clothing out of personal preference, but it was my choice, not an imposed requirement.

I could go where I wanted without asking permission or being accompanied by male guardians.

I could worship Jesus openly without fear.

I could read the Bible in public.

I could attend church services where I sang worship songs with hundreds of other believers.

I could pray out loud without hiding in a bathroom.

I was baptized 6 months after arriving in America in a church service attended by hundreds of people who had been praying for me since Khaled first shared my story.

As I came up out of the water, I wept with joy and grief.

Joy at publicly declaring my faith in Christ.

Grief for everything and everyone I had lost.

The pastor who baptized me, a kind man named David, embraced me and said, “Oh, welcome home, daughter of the king.

” The princess who had been condemned to fire for reading God’s word was now free in Christ, baptized and welcomed into God’s family.

I began sharing my testimony, speaking at churches and conferences about religious persecution and God’s faithfulness.

My story gained significant attention.

media interviews, speaking invitations, opportunities to advocate for religious freedom.

I connected with other Saudi women who had converted to Christianity and escaped similar fates, finding a sisterhood of survivors who understood my unique pain.

I also started a ministry called Hagar’s Hope, named after the woman in Genesis who fled into the desert and encountered God there to help other women escape Islamic countries where they faced death for their faith through secure networks of safe houses to secret communications and trusted contacts.

We help women get to safe countries, provide them with support and resources, help them rebuild their lives, and connect them with Christian communities.

One year after my escape, I received an encrypted message that changed everything.

It was from a servant who worked in my father’s compound, a Filipino Christian woman who had witnessed my near execution.

Princess Amira.

The message read, I thought you should know your testimony has spread throughout Saudi Arabia through secret networks.

We share it carefully in whispers, through encrypted messages, in underground meetings.

94 people that I know of, including members of your extended family, have converted to Christianity because of your story.

They meet in secret house churches, sometimes just two or three people at a time.

They are praying for you and for their own deliverance.

Your blood was not spilled, but your story is bearing fruit.

I wept when I read that message, fell to my knees in my small apartment in Dallas, and wept with joy.

My father had tried to erase me, to make my existence meaningless, to ensure I was forgotten.

Instead, God had used my story to bring nearly a hundred people to Christ.

The flames that were meant to consume me had become a light that guided others to Jesus.

Now, at age 30, I am rebuilding my life as a follower of Jesus Christ.

I work with refugees.

I speak about religious persecution and I share the gospel with Muslims who are searching for truth.

I’m pursuing a degree in international relations and human rights, hoping to work more effectively for religious freedom globally.

The Saudi princess who was condemned to fire for reading the word has become a voice for those who cannot speak.

A testimony to God’s power to save and a living example that no one is beyond the reach of Christ’s love.

I lost everything.

my family, my children, my country, my wealth, my title, my identity, my past.

But I gained Christ.

And Christ is worth more than everything I lost combined.

He is worth more than palaces and private jets.

He is worth more than royal titles and billiondoll fortunes.

He is worth more than earthly family and comfort and security.

If you are a Muslim woman reading this, trapped in a system that treats you as property, know this.

Jesus sees you.

He loves you.

He died for you.

He offers you freedom.

Not just physical but spiritual.

In you are valuable to him.

Not because of your family connections or your beauty or your ability to bear sons, but simply because you are his beloved creation.

You are worthy of his love.

You don’t have to earn it.

You just have to receive it.

And if you are a Christian, please pray for the thousands of secret believers in Saudi Arabia and throughout the Muslim world who risk death every day for following Jesus.

Pray for their protection, for their strength, for their wisdom.

Pray that God would make a way for their escape if necessary.

and pray for their children left behind as mine were being raised in systems that teach them to hate the Jesus their parents died loving.

My name is Amira and I was a Saudi princess condemned to death for reading the Bible.

But Jesus saved me from the fire and now I am a daughter of the King of Kings.

Keep free in Christ for all eternity.

The flames couldn’t touch me because God had other plans.

And now I spend my life pointing others to the Jesus who saves, who transforms, who liberates, and who is worth losing everything to gain.

 

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