A Love Letter to Israel

For more than four decades, the Islamic Republic of Iran has acted not as a responsible leader in the region but as a dangerous force spreading fear, hate, and violence. Hiding behind extreme religious language, the regime claims to be the “savior” of the Muslim world—promising to bring back the Mahdi by creating chaos and starting wars. Their system of government, known as Wilayat al-Faqih|ولاية الفقيه (rule of the jurist), has not served the people—it has trapped them under religious dictatorship.

Israel has long been their obsession—not because of land disputes, but because of identity. Israel stands as a prophetic witness to the faithfulness of God, a democratic state built on the ruins of genocide, a thriving Jewish homeland in the heart of a region shaped by tyranny. Iran does not simply oppose Israeli policies. It opposes Jewish existence.

Yet Iran’s ambitions go beyond Israel. The regime dreams of regional hegemony, including ideological control over Saudi Arabia and its sacred cities, Mecca and Medina. To achieve this, they’ve built a shadow empire: Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas in Gaza, the Houthis in Yemen, and Shiite militias in Iraq and Syria. Through these proxies, Iran has poured billions into terror, subversion, and destabilization. What it cannot rule, it seeks to ruin.

Five years before I was born, the Ayatollah came to power and the Shah was forced to leave Iran. And even though I wasn’t living in Iran, I grew up in a Shia minority household in Saudi Arabia, where the echoes of the revolution reached us. I remember, even as a child, hearing the Iranian radio blasting through our home—those very chants, translated from Farsi into Arabic. It was everywhere: the slogans, the indoctrination, the hatred.

This hatred has been carefully programmed. For decades, Iranian leaders chanted in their streets and broadcasted across the airwaves:
“أمريكا أمريكا، الموت لأمريكا، عدوة الشعوب، مثيرة الحروب!”
“America, America! Death to America! Enemy of nations, stirrer of wars!”

Even then, something in me protested. This can’t be the heart of God. How could the Creator of all peoples—Jews, Arabs, Persians, Americans—hate His own creation?

In school, I was taught Sunni Islam. At home, I was immersed in Shia Islam. I had to keep both worlds separate. I memorized what I needed to pass exams, then discarded it the moment I left the classroom. What a confusion I lived under. I was expected to conform, yet deep inside I was already asking: Which version of truth is actually true?

What I longed for most wasn’t just liberty—it was intellectual freedom. Freedom to think. Freedom to question. Freedom to seek truth without fear. I wanted to read the Torah and the Bible. I wanted to understand the People of the Book—Jews and Christians—not to condemn them, but to listen, to learn, and to love.

But in the Saudi Arabia of my youth, such longing was dangerous. Knowledge was policed. Curiosity was criminalized. Access to sacred texts outside of Islam was prohibited. Dialogue was forbidden. And fear was used as a tool to control minds.

In 2006, I left KSA and moved to the United States. It marked the beginning of a personal revolution—not of rage, but of revelation. As I studied, questioned, and searched across cultures, faiths, and histories… I met the Truth Himself—Jesus. Yeshua. The Messiah. The King of the Universe. The Lord of my life.

He was not the political figure I had been warned about. He was the embodiment of truth, love, and justice—and with Him came clarity, identity, and a mission far greater than myself.

As I was learning and seeking, Iran’s regime was funding destruction. It poured billions of dollars into terrorist proxies—Hamas, Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad—all with one goal: the eradication of Israel. While Israel built hospitals, universities, and peace accords, Iran built bombs, tunnels, and child soldiers. While Israel mourned innocent lives, Iran glorified martyrdom and genocide. This was not resistance. It was state-sponsored terror. A blatant violation of human rights, international law, and the dignity of all people.

And yet, beneath all the rage and rockets, a forgotten truth has begun to resurface: the people of Iran and the Jewish people were never destined to be enemies. For centuries, they lived side by side—as neighbors, friends, and even protectors. Iranian Jews, who have called Persia home since the time of Esther, endured revolutions and repression. Only hate, propaganda, and dictatorship divided them.

Now, as the regime shakes, the ancient bond is reawakening.

And Israel? Israel has stood—alone at times, accused by the world, slandered by media, condemned by nations. But Israel has stood firm. The IDF has defended not only its people, but the entire region from destruction. It has confronted Hezbollah and Ayatollahs not with vengeance, but with courage and surgical precision.

Congratulations, Israel. You have chosen life, even when surrounded by death. You have chosen to bless, even when cursed. You have become a light—not just to the Jewish people—but to every nation that values truth, freedom, and sovereignty.

But there is another voice rising. While the regime chanted “death,” another sound was rising—the cry of Iran’s underground Church. Followers of Jesus who have been beaten, silenced, and hunted for their faith. And yet their prayers have reached heaven. Their tears have been seen by God. And maybe this unraveling is the divine answer to their hidden cries.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord.
—Isaiah 55:8

The people of Iran: مبروك. Congratulations. מזל טוב.

To the Iranian Jews—faithful through fire—you now speak not just with memory, but with dignity and power.

And to Israel: Congratulations on your victories over Hezbollah and the Ayatollahs. Congratulations on existing, thriving, and standing tall when others bowed. You have withstood threats simply for being Jewish. And yet, you are still here. Still flourishing. Still chosen.

This is not just a military moment. It is a moral one. A turning point in history.

The regime that shook its fist at heaven is being exposed. And the world must now decide—will we stand with terror, or with truth? With darkness, or with light?

Because no lie lasts forever. No curse can overcome God’s blessing. And no darkness can extinguish the light that dares to shine.