Faith Without Sight

I have wondered if maybe after seeing so much pain and poverty over the past years in Ecuador, I will stop being impacted emotionally.  Instead, there are times I wonder if my tears will ever end. 

We had just left for our mission trip to Chuwitayo in a caravan of two, our car and Eric Ackerman's.  While driving over a narrow overpass we were shocked to see a young blind man carefully walking down the center, tapping his cane in front of him.  Blocking traffic behind us, we pulled up beside him.  Phil asked him if he knew he was walking on a bridge and that his life was in danger.  "Yes, but I need to get to the other side."  He immediately offered him a ride to safety. 

During the conversation over the next several minutes we found out that the young man was 17 years old, his name was Marco, he was from a city about two hours away, and his mother was dying of a brain hemorrhage in a Quito hospital.  Marco told us he needed to get to the Olympic stadium because he hoped to find work.  He was trying to make enough money to pay for the surgery that could save possibly his mother's life, a 6% chance.  "My grandparents died when I was young and there was nothing I could do.  But now I am old enough to do something to help.  My mother is all I have.  I want to do everything I can to save her life." 

Phil asked, "Would you like to touch my face so you can know me?"  He reached for Marco's hand and guided it to his face.  Marco chuckled, "You have quite a beard."  There was a pause, "And you are around 50 years old."  Then it was Phil who laughed with surprise. 

Phil and I wanted to just cancel our trip so we could help him. Instead, we gave him a paper with Phil's cell number and said to have someone call if there was anything we could do. 

He asked for NOTHING -- that in itself surprised and convinced us of his complete sincerity. 
Something about his absolute trust in God, his love and affection for his mother, and his incredible determination to do everything he could to help her, all while seemingly helpless in my thinking, broke something inside me.  I was devastated.  When I asked him for his mom's name so I could pray for her, I couldn't speak for fear my tears would turn into sobs.  Alejandro, who was sitting next to him in the back seat, prayed.  AND THEN Marco asked to pray for all of us.  He prayed a prayer filled with deep faith and gratitude. 

His sweet manner and voice penetrated the car...and our hearts, "My mother always told me that I don't need my eyesight.  If I have faith, God will be my guide.  He will show me the way." 

Phil introduced Marco to Eric and everyone in his car. 

                                         Phil is giving Marco directions after we drove him to
                                         the stadium...using hand motions.  :)

We don't know why we met Marco that day.  There has been no phone call from him. Today Phil called the hospital but was unable to find out anything.  However, he discovered it is close to where he is required to vote for the presidential election this weekend.  After voting, he plans to go to the hospital and if possible, find Marco and his mom, Rosa.  Maybe God has given us the joy of being part of their journey.  Or maybe God did something else that day.  Maybe God wanted to remind us to go, to live, to follow Him wherever He leads us.  By faith, not by sight.