I got to know three of the flier guys.
They stopped me as I was walking by one night. They offered me drugs (a daily experience for me in Guatemala) and women (not so common) but were content to chat when they realized I didn’t want anything from them. Their names were Oman, Juan Carlos, and David.
After a minute, they asked if I would be willing to buy them some food. So I walked with them to Pollo Campero and got them something to eat.
A couple days later, I saw Oman and Juan Carlos again, and offered to buy them some coffee. We talked some more, and I heard about their lives. They said that living on the street was hard. They never knew where their next meal would come from or where they would sleep at night.
Oman confided in me that he struggled with drug addiction. He told me he had Jesus in his life and was a new person, but drugs were hard.
Juan Carlos said he had family in another town and wanted to visit them. But he couldn’t without money. He loved his little brothers and sisters and wanted to be able to take care of them.
“We do anything we can man,” Juan Carlos told me. “We work. We beg. …Sometimes we even rob. We’re just trying to survive, man.”
I ran into Oman and Juan Carlos one more time before I left. I bought them some Pollo Campero again and shared with them about how Jesus changes lives. They told me that they wouldn’t forget about me. Helping them out had really made a difference to them.
[Photo borrowed]
As I shook their hands for the last time, Juan Carlos' comment about robbing to survive echoed in my mind.
These were not the same three guys who had robbed my friends and me. But these were three guys in the same situation, making the same decisions. And God had led me to buy dinner for them and talk with them, just like I had wanted to do with the others.
He had given me the chance to share the love of Jesus with three guys who were just like our robbers.
No comments:
Post a Comment