Saudi Prince Forced To Marry His Mother Until JESUS SAVES HIM
My name is Omar.
I’m 34 years old and I was born a Saudi prince in the royal palace of Riyad.
In December 2018, my family forced me into the most horrifying situation imaginable.
But that’s when Jesus Christ saved my life.
Let me tell you how the son of God rescued me from hell on earth.
I need to take you back to understand who I was before Jesus found me.
My full name is Omar Ibn Abdulaziz al-Saud and I was born into one of the most powerful branches of the Saudi royal family.
My father was third in line for regional governance of the eastern province which meant I lived a life most people could never imagine.
Our palace in Riyad sprawled across 50 acres with golden domes that caught the desert sun and marble floors so polished you could see your reflection.
I had my own wing with 12 rooms, including a private library filled with Islamic texts and a prayer room that faced perfectly toward Mecca.
From the moment I could walk, my life was structured around Islam.
Not just any Islam, but the strictest Wahhabi interpretation that governed our kingdom.
I was awakened every morning at 4:30 by my personal attendant for fajgera prayer.
Before I even brushed my teeth, I was on my prayer mat, reciting verses I had memorized since childhood.
My tutors were the most respected Islamic scholars in the kingdom.
They taught me classical Arabic so I could read the Quran in its original form.
And by age 12, I had memorized all 114 chapters.
Ask yourself this question.
Have you ever been so sure of your faith that you couldn’t imagine being wrong?
That was me.
I lived and breathed Islam with a devotion that impressed even the most rigid religious authorities.
Every aspect of my day revolved around Islamic law.
I prayed five times daily without fail, fasted during Ramadan with genuine enthusiasm, and gave zakat charity according to precise calculations my advisers provided.
When other royal children were playing video games or watching movies, I was studying hadith collections and debating Islamic Jewish prudence with visiting clerics.
My reputation as the most devout prince in our generation spread throughout the kingdom.
At age 16, I began leading Friday prayers at our family mosque, delivering sermons that drew hundreds of worshippers.
The Imam would introduce me as a shining example of Islamic youth, someone who proved that wealth and power didn’t have to corrupt a pure heart.
I believed every word of praise they gave me.
I thought I was earning Allah’s favor with every prayer, every charitable act, every moment of religious study.
The palace itself reinforced this religious atmosphere.
50 servants attended to our family’s needs, but even they were chosen based on their Islamic devotion.
Our head chef prepared meals according to the strictest halal requirements.
Our gardeners maintained beautiful courtyards where I would often sit and recite Quranic verses, believing that Allah heard every word with special attention because of my royal status.
My private tutor in Islamic law was a graduate of Alaza University in Egypt, considered one of the most prestigious Islamic institutions in the world.
But looking back now, I can see the cracks that were already forming in my faith.