One of the things I learned from our contact Miguel in the Dominican Republic was the elimination of the phrase “ministry-time.” He argued that our lives are ministries and that by referring to times as “ministry-time” and “off-time”, we are limiting our ability to be open to do God’s work. I liked the point and have made a point to avoid using these terms even though there are times when we have to be at a church and times that we don’t. These thing’s being said, I have been continually amazed what happens “outside of ministry-time.”
My first story is brief, it is about my simple friendship with our night guard. I don’t really know much Spanish but several times God has put me in places where I feel called to carry on conversations in Spanish. These conversations are often messy and I usually rely heavily on smiles and laughter during them, but they are often surprisingly meaningful. I was at a point this month where I felt very close to America from the standpoint of amenities but very far away from the people I care about there. This caused a bit of loneliness and a feeling of distance. One night when I was sitting outside my room reading my Kindle, the night guard sat down and wanted to talk. I had never talked to him before but he introduced himself as Carlos. We talked about simple stuff, our families, the weather in the United States, sports, food and my trip. It was a simple conversation but it seemed to be what both of us needed. The next night, my new friend brought me a local fruit to try. Several more nights he brought fruit and we would talk. It was nice and meant a lot to both of us, even thought the conversations were very simple. I was sad to say goodbye to my night guard friend.
The second story is a bit more intense. I was sitting at a table with some squad-mates at the beach in Huanchaco when a man comes up to the table, looks me in the eye and pleads, “hermano,” which means brother in Spanish. I was a bit confused for several reasons. Who was this man? Was I being robbed? Why was he addressing me like someone he knew? We began to think he was asking for money. We had some coins on the table and handed them him, he was bold enough to approach and ask. The coins didn’t satisfy him, he kept calling me hermano, pleading for something. I was beginning to grow uncomfortable and considerably more confused. It is by the grace of God that one of our bilingual friends from the church happened to be walking by and offered her translation skills.
The man was sad. His wife and children had left him. I realized why I was uncomfortable, the weight of this man’s sadness was incredible. There was no hope in his eyes and he was a little bit under the influence of alcohol. It became clear that his problem had driven his wife and son to leave with no plans to return. Then he showed us his scars. Our translator told us he was explaining his attempts at suicide. My mind was racing. Why did he find us and how can we help? We decided to pray with him. It turned out that prayer was what he was seeking. Somehow, in a tourist area with many other gringos, he knew we were Christians. He knew we would be willing to help, and we were. I grabbed the mans arm and we all started praying. I prayed against alcoholism, I prayed for peace, and against suicide. During the prayer I asked for a sign of his acceptance. A sign that our prayer reminded him of the love of a God he once knew. I immediately felt God put on my mind the phrase, “if he cries, he is healed of his pain.” The prayer ended and he actually gave us back the coins we had given him. We insisted he keep them but he insisted otherwise. He looked at us with the same sadness. I was unsure what to make of his uncomfortable response of silence until he broke it with a stream of tears. Deep sobs poured from the man. He cried like I have seen few people cry. Someone at the table said that I should hug him and so I did. I embraced him with all my might and looked him in the eyes as he continued to cry. He began to walk away and with a sandwich and what I feel was genuine hope in his voice he said, “I feel much better.”
Always be ready.
In Him,
Jeff
