I was on my knees, at my bed with a map of the 10/40 Window laid out before me. Every Home for Christ has great maps that tell the country, capitol, leader, population, and dominant religions. I was praying in my prayer language which is usually French, but the Holy Spirit can change that at His will. All of a sudden I was having an open vision. I saw an Oriental woman sitting in a rocking chair, big smile on her face, her hair up in a bun, and a big Bible on her lap. My prayer language changed to some sort of Oriental language; I had no idea what it was. Then Holy Spirit said clearly, “Call Linda; she’ll tell you who she is.”
What? Was I dreaming? Linda would probably think I was nuts. Feeling rather foolish, I called Linda and explained what just happened.
“Oh, that’s Marie Jaime in the Philippines,” Linda explained.
“What? How do you know?”
“Because you just described her perfectly. I’ve visited her on mission trips. She teaches five Bible studies a week. Always sits in that rocker, hair up in a bun. Here’s her address. You should write and tell her.”
Wow! So I wrote to Marie Jaime explaining that I was living on a farm in Grass Valley, California, raising pigs and goats with three small elementary school-aged children. About a month later I got the most amazing letter back from Marie Jaime.
“Dear Loraine, I’m so happy you wrote to me. I too had a vision in which I saw a white woman. She was crying and in great distress. She had three small children and was feeding pigs. I ran to the church in time for prayer meeting. I told the people, “There is a white woman in great distress” and described my vision. We began to pray; we’ve been praying for weeks. Then your letter came. I ran back to the church and told them, “I found the white woman. She’s not in the Philippines. She’s in California, in America.” We all rejoiced. We are continuing to pray for you. Please write again Sister. You are loved. Sincere blessings, Marie Jaime.”
Oh how I cried upon reading that letter. God was so good; God cared so much to connect two women on two different continents, of two different races, speaking different languages. We continued to write over the next five years. Life would get the best of me; I’d be overwhelmed, trying to make ends meet, trying to feed the family, take care of the animals, survive. Every time I was in great distress, another letter arrived full of encouragement and the love of God. You see, Marie Jaime didn’t know my husband was an alcoholic, and many times the phone was turned off, the propane man wouldn’t deliver due to nonpayment of bills, the groceries were low, we had no heat in the house. God sent me a lifeline: a Filipino woman named Marie Jaime. ■