Behind the Mask ... Part One

“Your eyes… They are made of so many different colors… Why?” the boy behind the mask asked.

“I don’t know. It’s the way God made me” I responded.

Within fifteen minutes our conversation which started out tense with hard questions and even tougher answers took a slight curve right becoming a charla between two new friends instead of a questionnaire between a doctor’s assistant and patient. Then as on cue and without explanation, the roomful of waiting patients suddenly got up from their seats and left the room. This was done for no apparent reason other than God wanting Sergio and I to talk freely and without listening ears. So naturally I took my own cue and propped up my tired feet on the now vacant seat in front of me and began to shoot the breeze with my new friend. Spanish filled the air with questions and answers about family, jobs, hometowns, and sports including futbol americano and WWF. Sergio already had a soft place in my heart by the mere fact of sharing the same name of a beloved friend in Honduras but with each passing minute I felt closer and I felt more love for this stranger, this boy behind the mask, than I have ever felt for someone else. In those precious moments I found myself overwhelmed with wanting him to know the truth.

So much that I abruptly blurted out, “You know there is a reason you are still alive. I am so happy that you are alive. God has plans for you. There is a reason.”

His eyes turned brilliant with intrigue and hope, and that same hunger which I had seen so many times in so many faces over the years was irrefutable.

Encouraged by his eager eyes I went on, “I have to leave now to go back home but can I please share something with you before I go?”

My heart hung on what that answer would be but I didn’t have to wait long because he immediately answered sí so I proceeded with great joy sharing the good news with him. When I finished presenting the gospel he looked at me and softly spoke the following words: “You know many people from different religions came to visit me in the hospital after the accident but nobody talked about God the way you have today with me.”

Unwillingly, I had to leave my friend but I left him with a copy of the word of God and by the time everything was packed and in the truck I went back one more time to the waiting room. I found him there alone and half way through the book of John. Praise God.. Amen...

I am grateful to my God for bringing me unexpectantly to Chiapas this past weekend. Without a doubt in my mind there was a purpose behind the crazy series of events that unfolded, allowing me a place in the truck to make the eight hour trip. And I firmly believe that one of those purposes was to meet this boy behind the mask. And the truth is I am not sure if he was the one needing me more than I was the one needing him. Sweet reader, you will understand the reasons for this in the next blog.

Please pray for my friend Sergio.