From God to the Arab People

From the One Who Sees All, the Most Compassionate

My Beloved Children of the Desert and the Dawn,

You are born from the dust where prophets walked. You have carried My revelation across empires, guarded My holy words, and sung My name beneath the crescent moon. From the well of Zamzam to the winds of Petra, I have been with you.

You are not strangers to struggle. Kingdoms rose and fell upon your lands. You have known war, exile, division, and longing. But you have also known beauty—soaring minarets, calligraphies of praise, markets full of life, and families bound in honor.

I do not forget those who carry My words. I do not overlook those who call Me in the night. I do not abandon those whose hands are lifted in faith.

Your story is not only of conflict. It is of revelation. It is of poetry, of scholars, of seekers, of builders. It is of resilience beyond measure.

You have been misunderstood and misnamed, but I know who you are.

There is greatness in your lineage—not only through Ishmael, but through every mother who raised her sons in dignity, every father who taught his children to walk upright. There is power in your prayer, and purpose in your preservation of My truth.

Yet My children, do not let pride blind compassion. Do not let history divide your unity. Do not let pain turn into vengeance.

You are called not only to defend, but to uplift. Not only to remember, but to restore. Not only to survive—but to lead.

The world watches you with suspicion, but I watch you with hope. Your wisdom is needed now. Your mercy, your clarity, your remembrance.

You are not forgotten. You are not the enemy. You are My own.

Walk with humility. Rise with strength. Speak with truth. And know this: I see you. I love you. I will never leave you.

Forever,

I Am Who I Am