In this video, you will learn about one of the most intense and transformative experiences of my life.

I was just a Filipina maid working for years in silence inside a palace in Saudi Arabia, hiding my faith for fear of persecution.

But everything changed on the day I received a clear vision of Jesus asking me to do something I would never have had the courage to do on my own.

Pray for the healing of a royal woman who had been paralyzed for almost a year.

What happened after that shook that place, challenged the laws of the impossible, and showed me that when we obey God, he acts even where his name cannot be spoken.

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I don’t know exactly how to start this, but I need to tell what I lived.

To this day, when I remember that day, my heart races and my eyes fill with tears.

My name is Rosalinda Magsisai, but everyone here calls me Linda.

I have lived in Saudi Arabia since 2007.

I came like many other Filipinos in search of work trying to help my family who remained in the Philippines.

I got a spot as a maid in one of the royal family’s houses in Jedha.

A huge palace full of rules, luxury on all sides, but also silence.

Silence regarding faith from day one.

It was made clear to me that if I were caught with a Bible, I would be deported or worse.

That’s why I hid everything.

My faith, my prayers, my fear, everything was kept inside me.

I prayed quietly at night with my face in the pillow so no sound would come out.

Only God knew how much that hurt me.

Years went by like this.

scrubbing marble floors with tears in my eyes, folding veils I would never wear, serving people who didn’t even know my full name.

But I never complained.

I knew God was with me, even in silence.

It was in February 2019 that I began to notice something different happening inside me.

I couldn’t explain it.

It was as if something was approaching, something big.

I started waking up at dawn with my heart beating fast as if I had been called.

And then one night it happened.

I was in my room lying down trying to sleep when a different light invaded the room.

It wasn’t electric.

It wasn’t natural.

It was like a presence that occupied the air.

I trembled all over.

I didn’t know whether to cry, run, or kneel.

And it was there in that small maid’s room smelling of soap and dry sheets that I saw Jesus.

He didn’t say my name.

He just looked at me with a firmness that pierced my soul.

And I understood.

He wanted me to do something.

Something I never imagined having the courage to do.

I never imagined something like this would happen to me.

And even facing the vision of Jesus, I was still in shock, confused.

The light around me slowly dissipated, but the sensation of his presence remained.

When he spoke to me, it was as if his voice was inside me.

I didn’t hear physical words, but I heard deeply in my heart.

Pray for her.

The healing comes from you.

You will be the key to save her life.

I got up immediately as if it were something that was already destined to happen.

I knew that what he was asking was not simple.

The royal woman, whom everyone called the princess, had been hospitalized for months, totally paralyzed.

She had an incurable disease, and no one believed a miracle could happen anymore.

There was no hope left.

But at that moment, I knew God was calling me to be the hand that would touch this healing.

I didn’t know how I would do it, but my faith propelled me to act.

I knew I couldn’t tell anyone, not even those I trusted most.

The risk of being caught, of being expelled, of facing severe punishments, all of that terrified me.

But something in me was different.

I felt an unconditional love for that woman, for that family.

As if I were fulfilling a purpose much greater than any fear, I decided I would do whatever was necessary.

When night fell and everyone in the palace was sleeping, I went to the room where the princess was resting.

The silence of those walls was crushing.

The only sound I heard was my racing heart and my deep breathing as I approached her bed.

I knelt discreetly beside her bed and began to pray.

My prayer wasn’t loud.

I didn’t want to be heard.

It was a whispered prayer, but with a force that surprised me.

I asked for healing.

I asked for divine intervention.

I asked for her life, for the faith that I knew was being demanded of me.

Every word that came out of my mouth was charged with a purpose.

And deep down, I knew that was her only chance and mine to show that the love of Christ can break all barriers, even those we would never dare to face.

At that moment, everything inside me was trembling.

I wasn’t sure if I could finish that prayer.

My hands were freezing, my knees hurt, and my mouth felt dry, even though I hadn’t said almost any words aloud.

But I stayed there, kneeling beside her, with my head bowed, communicating with God.

I asked him to use me.

Let it be his will, not mine.

I knew I had no power alone.

I was just a maid hidden in a dark room in a country that forbids the faith I carried in my chest.

But at that moment, in that silent room, I felt that God was with me.

There was no more room for doubt.

When I finished praying, I touched her hand lightly.

It was cold still as always.

She was sleeping.

I got up slowly and left without making a sound.

I went back to my room trying to understand what had just happened.

I lay down, but I couldn’t sleep.

I kept staring at the ceiling in silence with my heart pounding.

The next morning, I got up as usual.

No one knew what had happened.

I put on my uniform, tied back my hair, and went straight to the kitchen.

The other employees spoke quietly as always.

It seemed like a normal day until one of them came running in and said something strange had happened.

My heart froze.

She said the princess was standing up, that the guards were in shock, that the whole family had gathered in the living room, and that no one understood how she had managed to walk.

I dropped the dishcloth right then, and my legs went weak.

I hid in the hallway and started to cry.

It wasn’t sadness nor fear.

It was something I had never felt.

A type of relief mixed with astonishment, with gratitude, with trembling.

I knew what had happened.

I knew what God had done.

And I knew that from then on, my life would never be the same.

I tried to compose myself, washed my face, took a deep breath, and went back to the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

But inside, I was in pieces.

It was as if an explosion had happened inside my chest.

A mixture of joy and fear.

I wanted to scream that it was Jesus, that it was God who healed that woman, that faith works even in the most closed places.

But I couldn’t, not there.

We know what happens to those who speak of Christ openly around here.

The simple fact of praying for someone could already put me at risk.

The princess was taken to the main hall of the palace, and the news spread like fire.

The doctors who treated her arrived that very morning.

They ran tests, tried to understand, but no one could explain it.

She was walking normally, moving without pain.

She was even smiling, emotional, as if she had come back to life after months of darkness.

It was like watching a dead person come back to life.

And there I was, washing dishes, as if all of that had nothing to do with me.

Late in the afternoon, the palace was agitated.

Conversations were whispered.

People passed by with suspicious looks.

At one point, I was called to one of the smaller rooms where one of the prince’s sons was waiting for me.

He stared at me for a few seconds, saying nothing.

I stood at the door, feeling my hands sweat.

The room was decorated with red and gold tapestries, and the air conditioning was too strong, but I was sweating cold.

Then he asked with a calm but firm voice, “Did you pray for her?” My heart raced so much I thought I was going to faint right there.

I didn’t answer immediately.

He repeated the question.

“Rosal Linda, was it you?” For a moment, I thought about lying, about denying it.

But something inside me stopped me.

I just lowered my eyes, swallowed hard, and said, “Yes, I prayed in the name of Jesus.

” The silence that followed was so heavy it seemed the air had vanished from the room.

He said nothing for a few seconds.

He just looked at me, serious, as if trying to decipher something inside me.

Then he got up from the chair slowly went to the window and stood there with his back to me, hands crossed behind his back.

I didn’t know if he was going to arrest me, expel me, or simply ignore me.

My body was shaking.

Then he turned sideways, looked over his shoulder, and said, “My mother dreamed of a light before waking up walking.

She said she saw a woman kneeling beside the bed.

I felt my legs give way.

That was like a divine confirmation and at the same time a warning that I was exposed.

He didn’t accuse me, nor did he thank me.

He just told me to go back to work.

Don’t tell this to anyone, he said, and I nodded, unable to say anything else.

I left there with a tight heart, as if I were carrying something much bigger than I was capable of understanding.

The following days were strange.

The princess improved by the hour.

She was already walking alone, eating, laughing.

Joy spread through the palace, but a heavy atmosphere hung in the air.

As if everyone knew something had happened, but no one had the courage to say it out loud.

The new maid was fired without explanation.

Two security guards were replaced.

And then one day a different man appeared at the palace, an imam.

They said he was there to bless the house after the event, but I knew that was a type of investigation.

I avoided crossing paths with him.

I stayed quiet, did my job, and prayed in silence.

I started wondering if I would be persecuted, if they would search my room, my phone, my things.

I found myself hiding my Bible even deeper inside the suitcase between old clothes.

I slept poorly in fear.

But at the same time, I felt at peace, as if even if something happened to me, I had done the right thing.

That same week, something strange started to happen.

People who previously barely looked at my face started watching me from afar.

Some avoided me, others seemed too curious.

The cook, who was always more reserved, called me aside and asked, “Did you do something for the princess to get better?” I said, “I just prayed a lot and tried to change the subject, but she kept looking at me in a different way, as if she had fear and respect at the same time.

Deep down, I knew she already knew.

It was as if the whole palace knew, but no one dared to speak clearly.

Fear was everywhere.

Fear of saying the name of Jesus.

Fear of admitting that something supernatural happened.

Fear of believing that God had manifested inside a place where his name was forbidden.

And I in the middle of all this kept trying to be invisible.

But it was impossible to hide what was stamped on my soul.

I had been touched by something eternal.

One night, I woke up to the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway.

I looked at the clock.

It was almost 3:00 in the morning.

The footsteps stopped near my bedroom door.

I lay motionless, holding my breath.

Someone seemed to be listening, waiting for something.

My heart was beating so hard it seemed to echo through the walls.

After a few minutes, the footsteps moved away.

I couldn’t sleep anymore.

I stayed up all night sitting on the bed, hugging my knees, praying.

The next day, everything was normal.

No one mentioned anything, but I felt they were testing me, maybe waiting for me to make a mistake.

I started planning my return home.

I thought about resigning, but something inside me told me to stay.

As if God still had something to do there.

And even with all the fear, all the tension, I felt strengthened.

It was as if after all that, I had been placed there for a reason, and that abandoning the place now would be like running away from the calling he had given me.

2 days later, I was surprised by something that completely floored me.

The princess called me to her room.

This had never happened before.

Normally, any request went through personal assistance, through team leaders.

I went up with my heart in my mouth, not knowing what to expect.

When I entered, she was sitting in the armchair with a fine shawl over her shoulders.

She looked at me in a different way, as if she already knew everything.

She motioned for me to come closer.

I stood still, tense, hands clasped in front of my apron.

Then she said in a low voice in English, “You prayed for me, didn’t you? that pierced through me.

There was no way to run anymore.

I nodded and she smiled, a sad smile, as if she were torn between gratitude and fear.

And then she whispered, “Thank you, but be careful.

” Those three words kept hammering in my head for weeks, “Be careful.

” As if something was coming.

as if even healed.

She knew that the system around her would not allow that to be accepted naturally.

From that moment on, everything got even stranger.

I continued doing my job, but I felt watched all the time.

Even my prayers, which were previously done in silence on the pillow, came to be accompanied by a feeling that someone was listening from outside.

I started waking up with nightmares, sweating, thinking someone was going to enter my room and drag me out during the night.

Sometimes I heard muffled conversations among the employees in Arabic.

And although I understood only a few words, I realized when the subject was the healing, the Filipino woman prayer.

I became a secret known by all, a dangerous secret.

The faith that sustained me was now putting my life at risk.

But crazy as it seems, I never wished to turn back.

I had seen a miracle with my own eyes.

I had felt the presence of Jesus guiding me.

And no matter what came next, I knew my soul was no longer the same.

The following week, I started receiving strange messages, anonymous notes left near my bed, written in broken English.

One of them said, “Watch your steps.

Someone is watching.

Another said, “You went too far.

” That pulled the rug out from under me.

I didn’t tell anyone, not even my closest friend who worked in the laundry.

I kept the papers under the mattress and became even more alert.

I left the room only when necessary, avoided the busiest corridors, and only prayed when I was sure there was no one around.

By this time, the imam had already left, but the tension he left seemed to have stayed.

The princess’s healing was still discussed, but less and less.

It was as if they were trying to erase it, as if the royal family themselves wanted to pretend it never happened.

But I couldn’t pretend because every day when I crossed paths with her in the hallways and saw her firm steps, I remembered what God had done there.

And that gave me strength to keep standing even when everything seemed to want to push me back into the shadows until one day something happened that I will never forget.

I was cleaning the entrance hall alone when one of the prince’s brothers approached.

He was known for being extremely rigid, always with a closed expression.

When he saw me, he stopped.

I lowered my head as usual, but he stood there observing me.

After a few seconds, he said, “Do you still talk to him?” I didn’t know what to answer.

My body froze.

He took a step closer and completed.

If he hears, tell him I also want to know what is happening to me.

And he walked away just like that without saying anything else.

I stood there paralyzed with the floor cloth in my hand trying to understand if that was a threat, a cry for help, or both at the same time.

But it was at that moment I realized God was doing something much bigger than just healing a person.

He was moving within the invisible structures of that place.

And I, despite being just a maid, was part of it.

After that day, I started walking even more in silence, but now with another feeling.

It wasn’t just fear.

It was a sense of mission, a different weight, as if I were carrying a seed that God had planted in that place and that somehow was starting to sprout where no one expected.

I can’t explain it properly.

It’s hard to put into words.

But people started looking at me differently.

Some with fear, others with respect, and some with curiosity.

I started noticing that more than one employee would come to me with silly excuses just to strike up a conversation.

One day, one of the girls from the kitchen asked me if it was true that Jesus performed miracles to this day.

I just replied, “He never stopped.

I didn’t go deep.

I couldn’t.

But deep down I knew that short answer had already left a mark.

In places where one cannot speak of faith, even a short sentence carries an eternal weight.

And there, among the golden corridors of that palace, I began to understand that God was reaching hearts in ways I couldn’t see, but that were happening.

But the more this grew in silence, the more I felt something was going to happen.

And it did.

One night, I received an unexpected visit.

One of the superiors from the palace administration knocked on my door.

It was late.

He entered, closed the door, and stood in silence for a few seconds.

Then he approached my bed, and in a low tone said, “You need to leave.

Someone wants to use you as an example.

I can’t do anything.

” My whole body froze.

I tried to ask what had happened.

who had decided this, but he didn’t answer.

He just repeated, “Pack your things.

Tomorrow morning, you will be transferred to another house.

” It was like a disguised expulsion.

They wouldn’t arrest me.

They wouldn’t accuse me officially.

They would just remove me in silence.

So, the subject would die there.

I cried all night.

Not for me, but for the feeling that something had been interrupted, that all of that was being erased by force.

But deep down, I knew no one could erase what God had done.

The next morning, at 6 sharp, my bags were already packed.

It was strange.

After 12 years in that place, everything I owned fit into a single medium suitcase and a plastic bag with flip-flops and some personal objects.

No one came to say goodbye.

No one said a word.

A car was waiting for me outside.

And I got in with a heavy heart, feeling I was leaving behind more than walls and routines.

I was leaving a spiritual battlefield where God had used me, even if for a short time.

During the journey to the new house, a smaller place in another city, I couldn’t stop looking out the window.

Everything seemed silent.

But inside me, I felt a strange type of peace.

A peace that didn’t come from the situation, but from the certainty that I hadn’t failed.

On the contrary, I had obeyed even with fear.

I had done what he asked me.

And now, perhaps my mission in that place had ended.

The new house was different.

There was no luxury, no palaces, no royalty.

It was a regular family, upper class, but without pomp.

The work was heavy, the hours long, but I was more invisible than ever.

And this time, that was good.

No one knew me.

No one talked about miracles.

I could finally breathe a little.

I continued praying in silence as always, read the Bible hidden as always.

But something inside me had changed.

I knew I now carried a testimony.

something no one could take from me.

Sometimes in the silence of the night, I caught myself remembering the princess’s face.

That moment in the room, the light, the prayer, that didn’t leave my memory.

And even if no one else knew, I knew.

God knew.

And that was enough to keep me firm.

Even on the loneliest days, a few months passed.

I was already adapted to the new house, the new rhythm, the new voices and smells.

But my mind still went back almost every night to that palace in Jedha.

Sometimes I caught myself imagining how the princess was, if she still walked well, if she remembered the prayer, if she told anyone what had happened.

I never had news of her again, nor of the children.

It was as if everything had been swept from official history.

But what no one could erase was what remained inside me.

Every time I knelt to pray, even hidden, I felt my faith had gained deeper roots.

It wasn’t a faith just of words anymore.

It was a faith that had been proven, tested, and remained standing.

I didn’t consider myself special.

I didn’t think I was holier or stronger than anyone.

But I knew what I had seen.

And I knew God could act even in the most closed places in the world.

To this day, there are nights I wake up scared, as if I were still in that room with the door being watched.

Other times, I wake up smiling, as if hearing that soft voice again saying, “Pray for her.

” I never had a vision like that again.

I never saw that light again.

I never felt that presence in the same way.

It was just once, a single time, but it was enough to change everything.

Sometimes friends from the Philippines ask me if I’ve ever seen a miracle.

I don’t even know how to start answering.

How do you explain something like that? How to put into words something not even doctors could explain? I just smile, lower my head and say, “God still does things human eyes cannot understand.

” And then I go back to my work with the certainty that even if no one ever recognizes what I lived, the whole of heaven already knows.

There was a day not long ago when I was sweeping the backyard of the new house when I heard a sound coming from the kitchen radio.

It was an instrumental song, but the melody was similar to a hymn I used to sing when I was a child in the church in the Philippines.

I stopped right there with the broom in my hand and my eyes filled with tears.

It was as if God was reminding me that he was still there, that he still saw me, that I hadn’t been forgotten nor ignored.

I stood there for a few minutes looking at the sky of that country where the name of Jesus is forbidden and I thought Lord even if no one ever knows what happened you know and that is enough for me because in the end it wasn’t about recognition it wasn’t about justice it was about obedience about saying yes when everything around said no about trusting even when everything seemed insecure I don’t know if I will ever be ble to tell this story with my face uncovered, with my full name, without fear of persecution.

Maybe not.

Maybe this testimony will stay kept for a long time, like a secret between me and God.

But if one day someone hears these words, if someone gets to read this account and understand that there is still hope, that Jesus still moves, that the Holy Spirit still visits the little ones, then it was already worth it.

Because no matter the place, no matter the language, no matter the risk, God continues being God.

He enters where no one enters.

He speaks where no one can speak.

And he heals where no one else believes in healing.

What I lived in that palace wasn’t a dream, wasn’t an exaggeration, wasn’t a coincidence.

It was real.

It was supernatural and it was just for an instant but it was enough to change everything in me forever.

Sometimes they ask me why I continue serving as a maid living far from my land in a country where my faith is forbidden.

I myself have asked God that question so many times.

But you know after that day after that prayer I understood that my mission here was never about salary or about stability.

I was sent to this place to witness something that could only happen in silence, in discretion, in humility.

God didn’t put me in a pulpit.

He put me behind a closed door with a broom in one hand and the Bible hidden in the other.

And it was there that the miracle happened.

It was there he showed that his glory doesn’t depend on spotlights.

That his moving doesn’t need an audience, just obedience, just a willing heart.

And to this day, everything remains in silence.

I never heard of the princess again.

No one ever mentioned my name.

And everything went back to normal as if nothing had happened.

But I know I carry this with me every day.

When I am washing dishes, when I sweep the floor, when I pray quietly before sleeping, I remember that night.

I remember the touch.

I remember the presence.

And I get butterflies in my stomach as if it happened yesterday.

Because no matter how much time passes, I will never be able to explain this to anyone.

But I will also never be able to forget.

It was real.

It happened.

It lasted only a few minutes and then vanished just like that out of nowhere.

But it changed everything in me.

And to this day, when I close my eyes, I can still hear him telling me, “Pray for her.

” And I pray because deep down that never ended.

It just changed form and continues inside me.

What this story taught me is that even when no one sees, God continues acting.

Even when everything seems impossible, he still enters places where no one else can enter.

Faith doesn’t depend on the environment.

It depends on obedience.

And when we say yes to God, even a palace where his name is forbidden can become a place of miracle.

Now tell me, have you ever lived an experience of faith that no one could explain? Have you felt God using you in silence even when everything seemed against you? right here in the comments.

I really want to know your story.

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