Eagerly looking for a cab to take us back, I walked up to a
red beat up four-door to see a sleeping man inside. He startled himself awake trying frantically
to pull himself out of the land of dreams and back into this harsh reality in
an attempt to have a conversation with me.
I saw his struggle and gave him a few seconds before asking him if he
was able to give us a ride. He grunted
his reply, “where to and how many of you?”
“Eight,” I said, “but you’ll have to call another cab for
us.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll go get one.” He took off in his red “Maxi Taxi” and
returned with another car. He knew of
the Brown Sugar, the backpackers that
we’re staying at. I was relieved because
I didn’t feel like explaining to him how to get there because, well, I’m
lazy.
On our way we struck up a conversation. Our driver’s name was Joe, and he actually
owned “Maxi Taxi” and had been driving for the last 18 years. It wasn’t his ideal job, but he said no one’s
going to hire a 65 year old man to do any work, so he did what he had to
do. I suppose it paid the bills. By the looks of his car, it seemed that he
was doing all that he could to get by.
“Is it cold?” he asked, confirming my suspicions that
weather is a great topic to break up stagnant conversation.
“This is nothing compared to winter in the States,” I said, “we’re
used to a few feet of snow on the ground and biting cold.”
Joe merely grunted in reply.
I went on to explain that we were missionaries and had been
travelling the world the last few months sharing Jesus. Again, Joe grunted. I asked him if he knew Jesus. “I’ve heard of him, ” he said, “but I-I have
some questions and, uh, maybe you could answer them.” I told him I could and he asked me questions
about who Jesus was, what his nationality was, where he was from, what his
religion was, etc. I told him everything
that I knew.
At this point we were pulling into the Brown Sugar and our conversation ended. I told Joe that if we needed a cab driver the
next two days that I would call him. He
was grateful and I told him I would pray for him. He was thankful for that. The thing that made me the happiest was that
I left Joe with a smile on his face; just another guy trying desperately to
make it through this world while trying deliberately to hang onto what little
truth he knew.
I am by no means an evangelist. In fact, I’m probably the worst one out there
because I can’t wrap my mind around those cheesy Christian pick-up lines. They make me throw up a little in my mouth;
however, I’m trying to get better about sharing Jesus Love with people through words. It’s important to seize every opportunity. And not everyone’s an evangelist – I’m sure
as hell not, but that’s still no excuse.
Plus I’ve used up that excuse for all of us. There are no more “I’m not an evangelist”
excuses left. So come up with a new one. But don’t even waste your time trying to come
up with one, just go love on somebody.
