We walked down the sidewalk in the slum of Los Guidos, Costa Rica. It was just me, David, and Jessica who had gone to the school earlier that morning to teach. I was hungry, tired, and pressed for time. We had stayed a little late to get more work done at the school, which meant we had roughly twenty minutes or so to get back to the Finca to prepare for the feeding center. Sometimes I have a habit of putting schedules before the Holy Spirit, but that’s something God is working on within me. As we made our way back to the Finca, all I could think about was how warm it was that day and how much I was looking forward to getting back into the cool gym that we had made our homes in for the month.
David is super friendly and loves to greet everyone he sees with a smiling, “Hola amigo!” or “Jesus te ama!” I had foregone friendly greetings that day due to the development of tunnel vision I acquired when I decided I hadn’t gotten enough sleep. I was unaware for a moment when J and I continued to walk that we had lost a pertinent part of our little group. Well, maybe not lost, seeing as how he was just maybe ten feet behind us. David had said hello to a man carrying a box of sales supplies the opposite direction. Normally, the people just respond in a similar manner and continue their walking because, hey, we all have places to be. But not this guy.
I don’t recall the early stages of the conversation, but when the guy sat his box down at his feet and said in almost perfect English, “Let me tell you my story,” my interest was peaked. J and I backtracked the small distance to David and this man and we listened to what he had to say.
Now, to you this may not seem surprising, but let me set the stage of Los Guidos for you for a moment. Los Guidos is a slum on the outskirts of San Jose in Costa Rica. The people who come here to live are generally either Nicaraguan refugees living here illegally, or they are the poorest of the poor, the forgotten people of Costa Rica. Education is rough here, with most of the kids not finishing past 6th grade here, and the number of English speakers are very few. We worked with two teachers at one of the better private schools in the slums and they had decent English, but could neither speak the language fluently or listen to it comprehensively at a conversational level. We often had to be slow in our speech in order to allow them to translate in their minds so they could understand what we were saying. Even in that vein, they were also slow in their speech and often got momentarily confused on how to word certain things.
So, now you could understand our complete surprise that this random man walking through the slums of Los Guidos just broke out into conversation with us in almost perfect English. Not only could he speak it nearly fluently, but he could understand us when we spoke to him at a normal conversational pace. What are the odds really?
His name was Al (names were changed for protection purposes) and he had just arrived in Los Guidos. He had never been there before and was looking to work in one of the pulperrias. This man told us that he was a brand new Christian, having just been in the faith for a solid 22 days. He told us about his past; that he had killed people; that he had guns pointed at himself, but nothing harmful ever came of it. He told us about his current and biggest struggle: infidelity. He has a wife and kids, but he also has a girlfriend less than half his age. He explained to us his conviction and he looked to us for advice. He wanted to leave her, but each time he’d try, she would threaten to kill herself. He wanted to bring her to Christ. He wanted her to know the Father, which was the main reason why he stayed with her.
Despite his current conviction, this man displayed to us how he desperately loved Jesus, but he was caught between a rock and a hard place. The Holy Spirit filled me with his courage and his wisdom and I was able to minister to this man . . . or more-so, God ministered to him through me. I told him that he could not be her savior. Only Jesus can be our savior. I told him about my own experience with letting go of the desire to be a savior to those I love. I told him that he must honor his commitment to his wife and cut ties with his girlfriend. The suggestion brought such hopelessness and a deep sadness to his eyes as he tried to explain once more that he was afraid she would kill herself. We told him to pray for her. He explained how he did not love his wife anymore. We told him God would bless his commitment to his wife and restore their marriage if he really wanted it. David and I both ministered to this man and I could feel the Holy Spirit upon both of us, on our words, and upon Alex. It was such a good experience.
In the end, we were late for feeding center time, but the Holy Spirit is showing me that He can work outside of our schedules and if we are obedient, He will bless the situation. And when it comes to divine appointments . . . Al was definitely one of them.
