Oh Mexico
part five
We jumped right into ministry. Each night, we held evangelistic preaching services in the little Baptist church, and during the day, we did door-to-door evangelistic visits. Things went well, as several people came to faith in Christ during our time there. The pastor was happy with the outcome. Whatever discomfort we felt was outweighed by the eternal fruit.
One night, we did have a small incident. As I came out of our room onto the street to walk to the church for the evening service, I was met by a large Mexican man. He approached me and began talking to me as if I was supposed to understand what he was saying.
“I’m sorry. I only speak English,” I smiled.
He became agitated and started shouting something. I asked Johnny what he was saying. Johnny replied, “The best I can understand, he’s saying that he’s speaking to you in English, and you just don’t want to talk to him. He also said something about beating you up.”
Thankfully, two of the church deacons showed up about that time. They tried to calm the man down and were only somewhat successful. They got in front and behind me, acting as bodyguards as we began our walk to the church. They explained that the man was drunk. He continued following us down the street, berating my lack of ability to understand him and accusing me of not being much of a Christian if I couldn’t talk to him.
He disappeared once we entered the church. I hope his life got better, that he sobered up, and that he remembered something of the gospel he heard that week.
