We've now had three friends here die from alcohol abuse. I dread hearing who the next victim might be. They have all been great guys. Guys we have started relationships with. Oscar was such a sweet kid, so young. He came to our Bible studies from time to time. When we had conversations with him, he seemed normal. He had been in the local rehab where we minister. But it's expensive, and it was just him and his mom (or grandma...sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference). So there was likely no money to spend on rehab again.
Charly was middle aged, maybe not. But he looked it. Weathered by life and all the frustrations of life here that bring so many down. He wanted to go to the rehab desperately, but never could afford it. He also came to our studies. He was searching. We knew it by the questions he asked. I still remember at our Christmas service, he shared how his family growing up never had a Christmas tree. They didn't because they believed that Christians in the past were beheaded and their heads hung on the trees. Okay. So that says so much about how he was raised, without even hearing more of his history.
Then most recently we heard about Mynor. Mynor told me his age once, but I can't remember exactly. I'm thinking in his late 30's. Although he looked old enough to be a grandpa. It's just like that here with age. He came to our bible studies with his wife. He at one point must have been kinda well off for a Guatemalan. But several years ago, his arm was tragically broken. Totally severed bone. It never healed. He'd tried several hospitals, but never were they able to fix it, not with pins or anything. He could move the bottom of his arm around separate from the top. He was never able to return to his previous work. And though he didn't tell me, I suspect he went into a deep depression. Hearing of his death from alcohol both surprised me and saddened me.
These three events have been on my mind daily. I struggle with the "why's" and "how in this world can we possibly do anything to turn this chain of events around". We've been praying for these guys in this village. There's so much hopelessness. But when we see them, it doesn't seem so desperate.
Tuesday nights, we spend at the rehab. Whenever a new guy (or girl) comes, they have this attitude of arrogance. They are almost always the drug addicts. They like their addiction and usually proclaim they will go back to it as soon as they leave. I get a smile on my face every week we return to see the changes taking place with each one. They don't leave if they aren't ready to return to the real world.
This week, twenty-one year old Pablo left the center. Just a kid. His first day at the center, about three months ago I can remember as clear as yesterday. He claimed he would be going right back to the drugs as soon as he was out of there. What a change he's undergone. He's searching for life's answers. Crazy. We have them! I asked him if he was scared to leave. Yes. And nervous too. He wants to stay healed, but he's afraid he'll go back to his friends who are just like he used to be. I asked him if he had anyone in his life that could be encouraging to him to stay clean. That could mentor him. He asked, "You mean like you and Britt?" Yes. Like us. He said he didn't. But could we be that for him? Could we be the ones to help him with these next steps? Wow. Just like that. God presented an opportunity. An opening. This is why we are here.
I saw Pablo today. He passed Britt and me while we were on our Sunday afternoon bike ride. We waved. And it reminded me, we need to meet up with him. He chose us. I don't want to miss this opportunity. This could be an opportunity to avoid another death in Joco.
* Pray for these guys with us. Pablo wants to go to University. He speaks very good English. He has a world of opportunity ahead of him. He needs Christ. He's heard the truth now every Tuesday night. He has a million questions.
* Pray for Alberto. He just left recently. He's a local doctor. He became addicted to the very drugs he prescribed. Sweet gentleman.
* Pray for Don Tono (probably short for Antonio). He left about a month ago. And we have known him since we first started visiting the rehab. He's a grandpa. He lost his wife in a tragic accident over a year ago, which brought on his drinking. He knows the Bible well and was often a great spiritual mentor to those who filtered through the rehab. We want to stay connected with him as well. He loves Kate, who regularly attends the rehab with us and gets to know these guys as well.
Thanks to all of you who regularly keep our family in your prayers. We have felt them each step of our journey.
Charly was middle aged, maybe not. But he looked it. Weathered by life and all the frustrations of life here that bring so many down. He wanted to go to the rehab desperately, but never could afford it. He also came to our studies. He was searching. We knew it by the questions he asked. I still remember at our Christmas service, he shared how his family growing up never had a Christmas tree. They didn't because they believed that Christians in the past were beheaded and their heads hung on the trees. Okay. So that says so much about how he was raised, without even hearing more of his history.
Then most recently we heard about Mynor. Mynor told me his age once, but I can't remember exactly. I'm thinking in his late 30's. Although he looked old enough to be a grandpa. It's just like that here with age. He came to our bible studies with his wife. He at one point must have been kinda well off for a Guatemalan. But several years ago, his arm was tragically broken. Totally severed bone. It never healed. He'd tried several hospitals, but never were they able to fix it, not with pins or anything. He could move the bottom of his arm around separate from the top. He was never able to return to his previous work. And though he didn't tell me, I suspect he went into a deep depression. Hearing of his death from alcohol both surprised me and saddened me.
These three events have been on my mind daily. I struggle with the "why's" and "how in this world can we possibly do anything to turn this chain of events around". We've been praying for these guys in this village. There's so much hopelessness. But when we see them, it doesn't seem so desperate.
Tuesday nights, we spend at the rehab. Whenever a new guy (or girl) comes, they have this attitude of arrogance. They are almost always the drug addicts. They like their addiction and usually proclaim they will go back to it as soon as they leave. I get a smile on my face every week we return to see the changes taking place with each one. They don't leave if they aren't ready to return to the real world.
This week, twenty-one year old Pablo left the center. Just a kid. His first day at the center, about three months ago I can remember as clear as yesterday. He claimed he would be going right back to the drugs as soon as he was out of there. What a change he's undergone. He's searching for life's answers. Crazy. We have them! I asked him if he was scared to leave. Yes. And nervous too. He wants to stay healed, but he's afraid he'll go back to his friends who are just like he used to be. I asked him if he had anyone in his life that could be encouraging to him to stay clean. That could mentor him. He asked, "You mean like you and Britt?" Yes. Like us. He said he didn't. But could we be that for him? Could we be the ones to help him with these next steps? Wow. Just like that. God presented an opportunity. An opening. This is why we are here.
I saw Pablo today. He passed Britt and me while we were on our Sunday afternoon bike ride. We waved. And it reminded me, we need to meet up with him. He chose us. I don't want to miss this opportunity. This could be an opportunity to avoid another death in Joco.
* Pray for these guys with us. Pablo wants to go to University. He speaks very good English. He has a world of opportunity ahead of him. He needs Christ. He's heard the truth now every Tuesday night. He has a million questions.
* Pray for Alberto. He just left recently. He's a local doctor. He became addicted to the very drugs he prescribed. Sweet gentleman.
* Pray for Don Tono (probably short for Antonio). He left about a month ago. And we have known him since we first started visiting the rehab. He's a grandpa. He lost his wife in a tragic accident over a year ago, which brought on his drinking. He knows the Bible well and was often a great spiritual mentor to those who filtered through the rehab. We want to stay connected with him as well. He loves Kate, who regularly attends the rehab with us and gets to know these guys as well.
Thanks to all of you who regularly keep our family in your prayers. We have felt them each step of our journey.
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