Last month I went over to the Portland, VA for my annual eye exam.
They
had already checked my eyes the month before, so it was more of an
order-up-
glasses appointment than an eye exam. I was scheduled to be seen Monday
at
8:30, but got there at 8:00 and was done and out of there before my
appointment was supposed to happen. I was on my way to the cafeteria to
get
something to eat before I headed home when I passed by the travel window.
There was a vet standing there in a tripod configuration (Two crutches
and
one
leg-the other one was gone at the hip) and he was sounding pretty
frantic.
I
heard him tell the travel clerk that he was stranded and needed money to
get
home on, and I heard the clerk tell him there was nothing the VA could
do.
I'm a little shaky at times as to what I'm supposed to be doing as an
outpost
leader, but this Brother looked to be in dire straights and no one else
seemed
to be picking up the slack. I stopped and introduced myself, told him I
was
an Outpost Leader for Pointman Ministries over in Camas, and asked him
was
there anything I could do for him.
When he turned, I could see the anger
in
his eyes -- that and the pain. I wear my hat with the Ranger tab, Cross
and
Pointman pin. He had been a Ranger in the Nam too, and the hat stopped
him
from telling me to mind my own business.
He told me his name was Tony Benjamin and he had come up to the VA
from
his
place outside Lincoln City on Friday with his wife Beth, and two
grandkids
who
they're raising. It seems the doctors in Lincoln City had found more
cancer.
He had his leg removed by the VA a couple years ago because of cancer in
his
thigh bone, but I guess they didn't get it all because it showed back up
in
his liver and his spine. Well, the VA couldn't see him on Friday and
made
him
an appointment to come back a few weeks later and sent him home.
Inasmuch
as
he didn't have an appointment, they didn't give him travel pay to the VA,
but
just gave him some to get back to Lincoln City. On his way down off Pill
Hill, the fuel pump went out on his car. He, his wife and two little
grandkids had spent Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, Sunday, and
Sunday
night in their car. Normally, it's pretty nice out here, but we were
having a
cold snap just then with temperatures in the teens and twenties, so they
about
froze. He asked me if I would loan him $20.00 and take him to a
U-pull-it
so
he could get another fuel pump for his car.
That Monday was still cold, there was ice on the puddles, and I
couldn't
see going to a junk yard with this Brother -- who was skinny as a rail,
sick,
and not dressed that warm anyway -- and help him pull a fuel pump off a
junker. Besides, you never know if the junker was there because of the
fuel
pump in the first place. I told him I'd take him down and get him a new
one
at a parts store. I didn't know how much it would be but I figured if
worse
came to worse, I could drive back home and pick up the check book.
On the way down the hill, we did some talking. I asked him what he
thought
about his chances were with his body. That's when he told me the cancer
was
in his liver and spine. He said "I'm dying, man. What you think? I got
cancer all through me and the VA won't do squat. I got a family and they
won't even rate me for Agent Orange, so when I die they're out of luck,
All I
got is 80% for PTSD and when I'm gone, it is too."
I asked him who his Service rep was. He told me he didn't believe in
them.
I told him how the DAV had got me my 100% permanent and then gave him the
name
of the rep who had been there for me. He was impressed how the DAV had
worked
for me and seemed to be glad to get the information. I impressed on him
how
he needed to get his paperwork started while he was still living so his
wife
would have a chance. He nodded.
Then I asked him the million dollar question, the one that's all sorts
of
hard for me to ask. I said "Well, that's it about your body. What's the
condition of your soul, Brother?"
He didn't say anything for a bit. When he answered, he was pretty
quiet.
" I don't much believe in that stuff."
I nodded. I knew pretty much where he was coming from. As I said,
I'm
a
pretty new Christian and I remember when I was all alone out there
myself,
whistling in the dark. I shared my testimony with him. I told him how
locked
up in drugs and anger I was when I gave it up to the Lord, and how He was
carrying me through it. I explained to him the incredible peace the
knowledge
of my salvation gave to me, and how I didn't feel lost anymore. Out of
the
corner of my eye I could see him shaking his head. I said "Brother,
consider
this for a moment. Just suppose -- for the sake of argument -- that I'm
right
and you're wrong. Can you even imagine just how horrible it would be to
die
and then find out you had a chance and pissed it away? Remember Brother,
the
Lord is just standing there waiting. All you have to do is sk him to
come
into your life, and He will come. Let Him know you need His salvation
and
forgiveness and you got it. Free of charge, no strings attached."
He kind of snorted. "What do I need forgiveness for?"
I said "Oh, Brother, we all need forgiveness. We all got stuff.
Every
one
of us got a load we been carrying most of our days. I don't know your
bogeyman and I don't want to tell you all mine, but I've done some
things,
Brother, things that were really wrong. Things that I would look back on
and
it would hurt my heart to see how evil I had been. The Lord saw it all.
He
was right there when I was doing them and He loved me anyway. There
ain't
nothing he can't forgive. While you're alive Brother -- while you're
still
drawing breath -- it is never too late to give it up to God."
That was about it for the conversation until we got to the parts
store.
Now let me lay down a little ground work for you. Sunday night, I
had
been going through my donation can and looking at the order form trying
to
figure out what books and pamphlets I wanted to get. There was $63.00 in
the
can, and I couldn't figure out what it was I needed to get, so when I
went
to
prayer that night, I asked the Lord for a little bit of guidance. The
fuel
pump was $63.85. It about struck me dumb.
Sunday night I had taken the money out of my can and stuck it inside a
copy
of In God We Trust and stuck the Book inside my backpack. The backpack
was
in
my car. I went out to the car, got the book, reached 85 cents out of my
pocket and handed the Book and change to Tony. "Pay the man, Brother."
On our way back to his car, he tried to write me a check and when I
wouldn't take that, pay me in food stamps. I told him where the money
had
come from. He didn't seem to be able to understand. I told him, "This
is
the
way the Lord works. When we were lurping in the Nam, we learned to read
sign.
Well, this is the Lord's sign. The money was His. Donated to do his
work.
When I asked for guidance, he led me to you. That's what it's all about,
Brother. His Sign."
When we got to his car, he introduced me to his wife as a "preacher."
I'll
tell you, I've been called a lot of things, never been called a
preacher
before. Kind of took me by surprise. I'd never thought of it that way,
not
preaching, I thought it was more of helping my brother. He had the fuel
pump
off his car already and didn't want my help in sticking the new one on so
I
took his wife and kids up to the VA and got them something to eat. They
hadn't eaten but once the day before. I took him down a sandwich and a
cup
of
coffee. We'd only been gone about 30 minutes, but he had the new fuel
pump
on
and was starting the car when we got back. I asked if I could pray for
them
before they left. He nodded. I prayed them a safe journey home and
asked
the
Lord to Bless and protect them -- and show Tony the reality of His
presence.
Every time I think about it I choke up a bit. It's pretty awesome to
watch
the Lord at work.
I would like to ask for prayer for Tony and his wife, Beth as well as
their
Grandkids. If healing is in the works for him, we should ask for it, but
I
think maybe it's more important we should ask for deliverance for their
souls.
I would ask that Tony find peace and the Lord's salvation before he goes.
Well, I didn't mean to be so windy.
In Christ,
George Silver
Point Man International Ministries
since 7/31/98