By Dr. John E. Morgan

Pastor–Collinsville Baptist Church

There was a knock at the back door.  There were four Hispanic men standing on our back steps.  They attended the Spanish language service that was meeting at our church.

I speak enough Spanish to amuse people who speak Spanish.  I am told that my accent is wrong.  Then there is my very limited vocabulary. Lots of polite, confused, smiles when I speak Spanish.

In this case, I had to try.  None of these four spoke much English.  We sat down to communicate in smatterings of two languages.  Great chances for being misunderstood.

After a few polite buenas tardes and como estas, we got to the purpose of the visit.  The one who spoke the best English finally conveyed to me that one of the others needed something.  I braced myself.  What would he need?

His name was Abel.  Turns out that he was going back home to Guatemala.  I told him how much we would miss him in Collinsville.  There was a pause.  I waited.  Abel wanted something more.

He was not going to Guatemala for family or a job.  Through the haze of words from uncommon languages, they made me understand that Abel was going to Guatemala to witness.  To share the Gospel.  To be a home missionary in his home country.  And that he needed something from me.

My mind worked quickly.  He needs money.  How much money do we have in the Men’s mission account?  How long did we have to get money together for him?

He was leaving that week.  He already had his plane ticket.

He had what looked like a boom box with a microphone.  A version of Mr. Microphone.  He was going to use it to speak to crowds.  I figured that he needed a lot more equipment.  Did we have any used audio equipment at church?

“How can we help you?” I asked in a smattering of English and Spanish.

Finally, I learned what Abel wanted.  He had come to my house to ask me to pray for him.  That was all he wanted or asked.  I was ashamed of my certainty that he wanted money or assistance.  He wanted my prayers.

Abel had decided on his own that God wanted him to go to Guatemala and share the gospel.  He went to Trade Day and bought a used Mr. Microphone.  Bought a plane ticket.  And was leaving in a day or two.  He was leaving everything here to go there.  The only thing he needed was prayer.  From me.  And, boy, he sure got my prayers as we gathered around him in my living room and tried to pray heaven down on him. In two languages.

I think about Abel often.  I have no idea how his mission went.  Have no idea where he is.  I will probably never know more in this world.  But he taught me two things.

One was the power of prayer.  Abel knew he could face Guatemala jungles, mountains, cities, villages, danger from drug dealers.  Because he knew God was sending him.  All he needed was God.  And Christians to pray for him.  I am still humbled by his faith and his desire for my prayers.

Second, I am reminded that sometimes we plan and prepare too much.  I know Abel could have used more planning and support.  If we had been Abel, we would have packed for three months, gone to training schools, solidified backing from a mission board.  We might have gotten to Guatemala in a year.  We can’t send out a local church group for a week long mission trip without six months of planning. Training becomes an excuse not to witness.

We think we can’t walk across the street to speak to a neighbor because we need training.  Yes we can.  Just go tell them about Jesus.  And what He has done for you.  Abel was able.  So are you.  Quit making excuses.  Jesus told us to go.  So go.