Encounters 5 and 6 (final encounter)

I saw Jorge a number of times during the trek. Mostly, he would be in the normal spot outside every few days. I pretty much relegated myself to praying for him and for his mom to get him off the gasoline. Every time I saw him and made eye contact, I just said under my breath, Jesu te ama (Jesus loves you). It felt good to know something about him and the situation. At least now I had something specific to pray for instead of feeling inactively powerless. I also asked you all to pray for him without much explanation. (which many thanks for!) I sent the email out on Monday during our last sabbath. The next time I saw Jorge...

5th Encounter.

was returning from San Martin on Tuesday. We crossed the main thoroughfare populated by taxis and crowded buses and made our way up the hill towards the world vision building. Much to my surprise, Jorge was in the road. Except he wasn't just in the road, he was running around like usual, except differently. He wasn't quite as random, his movements were more coordinated. He ran up to a man in an almost pleading manner, clutching his arm. The man disentangled himself and shoved him away and tossed in a rock for good measure. I looked for the bottle . . . empty. His eyes seemed back in check. He was off the gas.

HECK YES! Praise God, there's prayer at work! I didn't know how it happened, I didn't really care, he was without in such a good way. At this point he ran off the road toward a porch occupied by the family of the house and promptly took a seat next to the papa. They were a bit thrown off but quickly regained the assertiveness to defend their porch from uninvited strangers. Amidst the shooing and kicking, I gave him a stern look of "don't go back. You can get better, but don't go back to the gas". I don't know why I gave a stern look when I was so happy. I should have hugged him, but emotions are weird, and the resulting actions even weirder.

I was pretty excited to say the least. I figured this had to be the start of his turn around. No one was giving him gas, we had all been praying about it, this was the outcome. If only I had a chance to talk to him now that he might understand.

6th Encounter (Final)

It was our last day at the world vision office. Somehow, I got elected to lead devotionals that morning as we finished the book of Amos. We broke into small groups to work on the passage and then we all came back to share what we learned and how to apply it. I was upfront in the cramped room asking questions, fielding responses, and horridly mispronouncing the spanish word for justice (as I was told afterwards). In the midst of this time, I heard a familiar sound. The same deadened moaning/cry. I couldn't really look out the door to my right, so I had to wait and see what was going on with Jorge.

The session finished and our team shuffled outside, tired, but ready to do the last day. As I walked out the door, I caught sight of him. My heart sank as all the hopes of the last encounter were dashed by a refilled 20oz bottle of dark liquid. The grease smudge of a mustache had returned as he squat in the same old fashion. What happened? Why? He was better and rid of the gas just two days ago, and I had hoped for good. I listlessly got my stuff together and waited out on the deck to go to San Martin. I just stared at him. He stared back. He, or something in him laughed. It just sounded plain evil. All I heard in that laugh was "You can't beat me. You thought you could come in here and change this. But you didn't. And its too late to do anything now. This is just how life is, nothing is going to change it. Sad but true."

One of the guys came up and we talked a bit about Jorge.
"Do you want to go take the gas away from him?" he asked.
"I've been thinking about it" It was a tempting idea. At least from playing out the scenario in my mind of us running down and snatching the bottle seemed like it would be satisfying. But he would find another or throw such a fit as to be unmanageable. He would be deprived for a few moments, but then we'd be gone forever.
"I don't think we should, I'm not sure it would do much good. Aside from the fact that we'd be assaulting a 14 year old kid."
"True"

We walked to San Martin. It was the last time I saw him. On the walk, all I could think about was his eyes and that laugh. "Why God? How could you let this happen? Just when I thought there was hope. Why did I have to see him today, I could have gone home with the happy thought that maybe he's better. Don't you care about him? Was this my problem because I didn't do something instead of just praying? Was my pride getting the way? Was I trying to do this all on my own? Are you trying to show me the reality of life here? What's going on? Why Why Why?"