Sam, Chrystel, and I have been trying to come up with team nicknames for each other; and so far, we’ve only been able to think of an appropriate one for Sam:
We gave it to him because somehow he always ends up sitting in the front seat of every taxi we take, despite the fact that he isn’t completely fluent in Spanish yet.
Anyway, several days ago, when we were still in Panama City, the three of us had been waiting at a bus stop for the bus that would take us to the airport where we’d planned to search for our tickets into Colombia. Whilst we waited, we started talking to a fellow named Julio (pronounced hoo-leeo, not joo-leeo.) I think he was in his early twenties, if I remember correctly. Gradually, our conversation came around to a knee injury that he had had some years ago and how he was still suffering from it — especially since he worked as a security guard, which meant he spent most of his day standing up.
Of course, immediately the thought came to my mind that we should pray for his knee to be healed, but I procrastinated acting upon it. Fortunately, though, both Chrystel and Sam had the same idea, and Sam suggested it. So we asked Julio if he wouldn’t mind if we prayed for him.
“Uh. Okay. Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”
I gently touched his knee with my hand and briefly asked God to heal it. Then I looked up at him and asked if he felt anything different.
His eyes got really wide and with an astonished tone he said, “What did you just do to me?”
I took that as a sign that he must have felt something different.
“Nothing,” I said. “I told you I was going to pray for God to heal it.”
He still seemed like he didn’t quite know what to make of it; and right after that, our conversations drifted to other things, just before the bus finally showed up. He actually helped us a little bit with finding our way to the airport. When we reached our stop, we said goodbye to him and parted ways.
Even if we don’t personally see him again, I’m quite certain his life had to have been significantly impacted from then on.