Traveling on the Ticabus from Costa Rica is already slightly daunting, watching closely your bags, your children, your passports, and constantly checking to make sure they are all still with you. As you sit in the buses, you literally put all your bags at your feet, wrapping them around your legs and never in the upper bins at the advice of our Nica friends here.
While traveling one day from Costa Rica headed back through a town called, Rivas, we were met by an American that currently lives here in Central America. Initially on the bus he takes the seat across the aisle from our Libby. It didn’t take long before an unsettling feeling was around us. He seemed unsafe although he looked perfectly normal. As we were approaching the border from Costa Rica where we all file out, get our passports stamped, and wait for a long time in the hot sun, I overheard a conversation in Spanish from this man on his phone. I understood enough to know he was speaking of children and money. Children and money. I thought to myself, “Not that, God.” I just kept listening and praying in my seat. I couldn’t be sure, but I felt a sense of danger. I always try to minimize things, and talk myself out of them. This is always my default. Could I have imagined or am I over-reacting? Did I misunderstand what I thought I heard? And all along, my hope is that I am dead wrong about this guy.
We cross the border, and as we get back on the bus and head toward Rivas, my earlier concerns were validated. My heart started beating, and this man started talking to the man behind him in English this time. I’ll paraphrase, but he spoke loudly and clearly about his coming to Central America to take advantage of the people here. “They’ll sue you in the U.S.” he stated. He started speaking explicitly about the things for his movies and photos for the internet of sexual nature and how he’d persuade young women and girls. It was as if he wanted our children to hear. As he spoke, I immediately turned to Jimmy and said “headphones now.” We instructed the kids to put on headphones, turn up the music and look out the window. My heart was beating, and my heart was filled with anger and disgust for this man as they discussed a series of illegal and life-wrecking things he did for a living. The proximity he had to my daughter made me feel extremely uneasy. I must have turned around 50 times making sure the girls were occupied and listening to music.
I sat in my seat and started praying Psalm 91, and for God’s protection, and as I did, Beck curled up next to me, completely innocent, unaware and asked, “Mom, if you could put dragon wings on any animal, which one would it be? I would put them on a Lion.” I’m caught off guard a bit, and if he hadn’t been 7, I might have said, “Not now, honey, Mom’s in battle mode.” I kiss him and am thankful for the picture of innocence in complete opposition to everything that surrounded us.
Isaiah 35:3-4 Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, be strong, do not fear; your God will come, He will come with a vengeance; with divine retribution He will come to save you.”
I went back to praying, and battling the anger, and how badly I wanted to tell this guy off. Then a funny thing happened. I went from fear, anger bordering rage, then to compassion… my prayers shifted from a protection I now felt confident of to prayers of an intersection of faith for this guy. How far and deep under the authority of evil this guy was. If we don’t pray for his deliverance, who will?
2 Kings 6:16 “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”
I felt in my spirit to make eye contact, to keep praying for God to rescue this lost man. My eyes flashed to girls that don’t understand how he’s going to ruin their lives and break their self worth into pieces, and then I thought of all of the people who watch his movies, and how quickly the acts of just one man can spread out and poison so many. “Wake us all up, Lord” was my prayer.
My heart was so thankful when our stop approached, and my heart ached as we got up to leave and I looked him in the eyes, but not with hate, as I had felt moments earlier, but thought, “God, you’ve got to rescue him. Bring justice for him but change his heart”
“The Holy Spirit does regenerate men. He has power to raise the dead. He has power to impart life to those who are morally dead or decaying. He has power to impart an entirely new nature to those whose nature now is so corrupt that to men they appear to be beyond hope.” – Jim Cymbala
I am still praying for this man. I couldn’t find him online and considered his passport name may be different than his professional one. My heart has hurt for children trafficked here and later have learned Nicaragua has terrible problems here with trafficked children, and their youth being taken advantage of. We are visiting and learning about a girls’ home this Friday with our neighbor here, and I am curious to learn how Nicaragua is battling this terrible injustice. Join me in praying for this man. God can change the heart of anyone, and I suspect he sat next to us that day for a reason. One that might spur us to action in prayer on his behalf and I pray he runs right into Jesus along his road that’s headed for death, and that when confronted, he’ll choose life. We’re all on a rescue mission wherever we go.
Psalm 107:14-16 “He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away their chains. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men, for he breaks down gates of bronze and cuts through bars of iron.”