We did not realise how different that day was going to be.
As the sun rose higher in the sky and we had walked far enough, we decided to
turn back to the hotel. The beach was still very quiet – too early for the
hotel guests to be out. There were a few locals walking and possibly getting
ready with their wares – Cuban hats, costume jewellery and little trinkets.
This is where we met our beach friends – I am going to call them Louis and Max.
Louis was a fairly young man. He had a torn back pack and he was walking briskly along when he stopped to chat. He wished us politely and then quickly asked us if we had any clothes for his family. He was one of the few locals we met, who spoke good English. He told us that he worked on a construction site for a new hotel and that as such he lived away from his family for a few weeks and then got a week with them.
The book I was reading “Radical” by David Platt had talked about house churches in Cuba and we were curious to hear from the locals if these were well known and accessible. We asked Louis about his faith and if he had heard about Jesus. Yes he said he had, but just a little bit. He knew of a church and he wanted to know more but did not have a Bible or the time to go to Church. We explained the gospel to him and he looked at us and asked for a Bible to read more. Even though he spoke good English, I was quite sure that he could not read it and the only Bible I had was mine, and of course it was in English. I explained and he said “can you please give it to me? I will try to read”. How could I resist? I knew that when I came back home all it would take for me to get a new Bible would be, to go to a store and purchase one. I sensed the hunger in his face, the aching desire to find meaning and joy in his life – an escape from the never ending humdrum. I gave him my Bible and prayed that somebody, someone would read it to him and find the words of life, like I did.
And then there was Max...
I think we had seen Max the day before – he had given us his customary “hola” and moved on but today he was bolder and he came right up to talk to us. The expected question “where are you from?” Max was dark skinned, weather beaten and rugged. He lingered and Julius and I felt drawn to talk to him. My limited Portuguese and his limited English did us pretty good. He told us that he was a carpenter by trade and he showed his left hand and the 4 fingers that had got chopped while at work. He was now out of a job and waiting for a prosthetic hand. His family lived far out in the town and he stayed here with a friend and came out to the beach every day in the hope of doing some odd jobs and getting by with a few tips. We chatted and somehow the conversation came around to his faith. He looked at us with the most amazing smile and said “Jesucristo es mi rey.” (Jesus Christ is my King). It was a thrilling moment for us. We asked him how he knew Jesus and he said that there was a small church in his town that he went to when he was home. Sadly he had no Bible and no means of getting one.
We left the beach that day with mixed emotions. We had just seen what God meant when He said "If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me". Jeremiah 29:13. We had met 2 seeking hearts and the different culture and language did not deter us from making that all important connection with the heart.
I also came away with a renewed gratitude for the freedoms of my country and a heart filled with gratitude for good teaching that I get every Sunday, for my church family and above all for my Bible. I read the Word now and remember my Cuban beach friends for whom this is a luxury.
This is where we met our beach friends – I am going to call them Louis and Max.
Louis was a fairly young man. He had a torn back pack and he was walking briskly along when he stopped to chat. He wished us politely and then quickly asked us if we had any clothes for his family. He was one of the few locals we met, who spoke good English. He told us that he worked on a construction site for a new hotel and that as such he lived away from his family for a few weeks and then got a week with them.
The book I was reading “Radical” by David Platt had talked about house churches in Cuba and we were curious to hear from the locals if these were well known and accessible. We asked Louis about his faith and if he had heard about Jesus. Yes he said he had, but just a little bit. He knew of a church and he wanted to know more but did not have a Bible or the time to go to Church. We explained the gospel to him and he looked at us and asked for a Bible to read more. Even though he spoke good English, I was quite sure that he could not read it and the only Bible I had was mine, and of course it was in English. I explained and he said “can you please give it to me? I will try to read”. How could I resist? I knew that when I came back home all it would take for me to get a new Bible would be, to go to a store and purchase one. I sensed the hunger in his face, the aching desire to find meaning and joy in his life – an escape from the never ending humdrum. I gave him my Bible and prayed that somebody, someone would read it to him and find the words of life, like I did.
 |
| Julius and our Cuban friends |
And then there was Max...
I think we had seen Max the day before – he had given us his customary “hola” and moved on but today he was bolder and he came right up to talk to us. The expected question “where are you from?” Max was dark skinned, weather beaten and rugged. He lingered and Julius and I felt drawn to talk to him. My limited Portuguese and his limited English did us pretty good. He told us that he was a carpenter by trade and he showed his left hand and the 4 fingers that had got chopped while at work. He was now out of a job and waiting for a prosthetic hand. His family lived far out in the town and he stayed here with a friend and came out to the beach every day in the hope of doing some odd jobs and getting by with a few tips. We chatted and somehow the conversation came around to his faith. He looked at us with the most amazing smile and said “Jesucristo es mi rey.” (Jesus Christ is my King). It was a thrilling moment for us. We asked him how he knew Jesus and he said that there was a small church in his town that he went to when he was home. Sadly he had no Bible and no means of getting one.
We left the beach that day with mixed emotions. We had just seen what God meant when He said "If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me". Jeremiah 29:13. We had met 2 seeking hearts and the different culture and language did not deter us from making that all important connection with the heart.
I also came away with a renewed gratitude for the freedoms of my country and a heart filled with gratitude for good teaching that I get every Sunday, for my church family and above all for my Bible. I read the Word now and remember my Cuban beach friends for whom this is a luxury.
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