Saudi Princess Set On FIRE For Reading Bible, Then JESUS SAVES HER
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My name is Sumaya. At 28 years old, I was once a princess in Saudi Arabia, living in a gilded cage known as the Alsaw Palace. My life was a façade of wealth and privilege, but beneath the surface lay chains of oppression and fear. On September 7th, 2017, I faced the ultimate betrayal from my own family when I was burned alive for committing what they deemed the ultimate crime: reading the Bible. Yet, in that moment of despair, Jesus Christ reached out to me, pulling me from the flames and into a new life.
Growing up in the Alsaw Palace was like living in a fortress. My father, the regional governor, ruled with an iron fist, and my mother was a fierce enforcer of religious extremism. From a young age, I was trained to be the perfect daughter, memorizing the Quran and adhering to strict Islamic teachings. By the age of 11, I had memorized all 6,236 verses of the Quran, earning praise as a prodigy. But inside, I felt a profound emptiness, a void that the marble halls of our palace could not fill.
One fateful night during Ramadan 2017, while the household slept after the pre-dawn meal, I stumbled upon the old library in the east wing of the palace. Dust-covered and forgotten, it held secrets I had never imagined. As I explored the shelves, I discovered a hidden compartment containing three books, one of which was a black leather Bible. My heart raced. In Saudi Arabia, owning a Bible was not just illegal; it was punishable by death.
Despite the danger, I couldn’t resist the pull of curiosity. I took the Bible to my room and began reading it in secret. Night after night, I was captivated by the teachings of Jesus, who spoke of love, forgiveness, and mercy—concepts that clashed with the harsh doctrines I had been raised with. For the first time, I felt a connection to a God who loved rather than demanded submission.
As I immersed myself in the pages of the Bible, I began to question everything I had been taught. My behavior started to shift. I became kinder to our household staff, treating them as equals rather than subordinates. I asked questions during family discussions that made my relatives uncomfortable, challenging the very foundation of our beliefs. My uncle, Abdul Rahman, a staunch religious advisor, noticed these changes and grew suspicious of my faith.
The moment of betrayal came when Fatima, my trusted servant, caught me reading the Bible. She reported my secret to Uncle Abdul Rahman, who wasted no time in informing my father. I had mere minutes before my life would be irrevocably altered. I spent those moments praying desperately to Jesus for strength as I prepared for the storm that was about to break.
The chaos erupted at 2:00 AM. My father’s furious voice echoed through the palace, demanding to know what I was holding. When he burst into my room, I stood there, Bible in hand, knowing that my fate was sealed. “It’s the Bible, Father, and I believe every word of it,” I declared, choosing truth over survival.
His rage was unimaginable. My mother collapsed, wailing at the disgrace I had brought upon our family. They dragged me from my room, treating me not as a princess but as a criminal. The next morning, I was brought before an assembly of powerful men, including clerics and family members, who would decide my fate. The charges against me were serious: apostasy, blasphemy, and corruption of royal blood. Each carried the death penalty.
Uncle Abdul Rahman presented his evidence, and when it was my turn to speak, I proclaimed my faith in Jesus Christ. The verdict was swift: death by public burning. My execution was scheduled for two days later, and I was imprisoned in a small, dark cell, cut off from the world.
The night before my execution, my mother visited me, weeping uncontrollably. She begged me to recant, to think of our family’s honor. But I stood firm in my faith, knowing that I could not deny the truth I had found. The next morning, as I was led to the courtyard, I felt a mix of fear and peace. I was about to die for my beliefs, but I knew I was not alone.
The courtyard was filled with people, all there to witness what they believed would be a spectacle of punishment. As I was tied to the wooden stake, my heart raced. The chief cleric began reciting prayers, and I felt the heat of the flames as they were ignited around my feet. I screamed out to Jesus, pleading for help, and in that moment of desperation, something miraculous happened.
A blinding light filled the courtyard, brighter than the sun. Everyone present shielded their eyes, and in that radiant glow, I saw Him—Jesus Christ, standing beside me. His face was filled with love, and His voice spoke directly to my spirit, saying, “Daughter, you are mine. Come to me.” Suddenly, the flames that had been consuming me extinguished, and the ropes binding me fell away. I stood unharmed in the center of the courtyard, free from the fire that should have claimed my life.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Some screamed in terror, while others fell to their knees in awe. My father, once filled with rage, collapsed in disbelief. I walked toward the exit, the crowd parting before me. As I reached the gates, three servants in brown robes awaited me, saying they had come to help me escape. They ushered me into a truck, and we drove away from the palace that had been my prison.
The journey to safety took 18 hours, but I was filled with a sense of peace and purpose. I learned that my rescuers had their own miraculous stories of survival, and we bonded over our shared faith in Jesus. When we reached the Jordanian border, the guards waved us through without question, as if they couldn’t see me sitting in the truck.
In Jordan, I found refuge among a community of believers who welcomed me with open arms. I was baptized and began to share my story, which had already begun to spread throughout the underground Christian networks in the Middle East. People were drawn to my testimony of faith and resilience, and I became a voice for those facing persecution for their beliefs.
Seven years have passed since that fateful day when Jesus pulled me from the flames. Today, I live a life filled with purpose and love, married to a wonderful man named Michael. Together, we work to support persecuted Christians in the Middle East, sharing the message of hope and salvation that transformed my life.
Though I mourn the loss of my family, I have found a new family among believers who accept me for who I am, not my royal title. My journey has not been without danger, but the supernatural protection I experienced that day continues to surround me. I have faced assassination attempts and threats, yet I remain steadfast in my mission to share the love of Christ.
As I reflect on my past, I am reminded that the same Jesus who saved me from physical flames desires to rescue others from spiritual fire. My story is a testament to the power of faith and the incredible lengths to which God will go to reach His children. I am Sumaya, a former Saudi princess, now a daughter of the King of Kings, and I will continue to proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord.
