There's something almost otherworldly about a man who would beg Allah to take away his favorite pleasure.

But that's exactly what Umar ibn al-Khattab (RA) did.

Picture pre-Islamic Makkah, where Umar's evenings had a predictable rhythm.

He'd finish his daily affairs and set out to find his drinking companions.

Wine wasn't just a casual indulgence for him; it was his primary form of recreation, his way of unwinding, his social glue with friends.

There's a telling detail about the night that would change his life forever.

When Umar went to the Kaaba intending to confront the Prophet ﷺ, it wasn't because of some noble spiritual quest.

He had gone looking for his drinking buddies and couldn't find them anywhere.

The Kaaba was just another stop in his search for a good time.

Fast forward to post-conversion Umar (RA), now living in Madinah.

Alcohol is still permissible.

The companions who used to drink are still drinking, even Hamza (RA), the Prophet ﷺ's beloved uncle, celebrated their victory at Badr with wine.

It was completely halal, completely normal, completely acceptable.

But here's where Umar's story takes an extraordinary turn.

This man, who had built his social life around wine, who genuinely enjoyed it, who had every religious permission to continue, this same man began making a dua that defies all logic: "O Allah, make it clear to us regarding alcohol."

Not "O Allah, help me enjoy it responsibly."

Not "O Allah, let it remain permissible."

But "make it clear"—with the full understanding that clarity might mean prohibition.

Allah's response came in stages, each one perfectly calibrated to help the believers transition away from something so deeply embedded in their culture.

First: "Do not come to prayer while you are intoxicated."

A reasonable boundary, keep your worship pure.

Umar's reaction?

This wasn't enough.

He kept asking for more clarity.

Then came the complete prohibition of alcohol, and when that revelation descended, Umar's response was immediate and joyful: "We hear and we obey!"

Think about our relationship with questionable pleasures today.

We've perfected the art of not asking too many questions about things we enjoy.

Umar represents the complete opposite approach:

Actively seeking clarity about things he loved, even when that clarity might require sacrifice.