Helped By An Angel

     It was Friday evening; I was finishing a Week of Prayer in a city in southern Brazil.  I had preached four times a day at two different locations.  Several young people had given their lives to God, but one young man seemed to resist the Holy spirit.

     Henrique and his girlfriend had come to all four meetings every day, hearing the same sermons twice each day.  I prayed fervently to win Henrique to Jesus, but he never responded to the appeals.

     I returned to my room Thursday night frustrated.  “God, what am I doing wrong that I cannot lead this young man to you?”  I pleaded.  I could not sleep, so I read my Bible and prayed for this young man.

     After the evening meeting Henrique planned to drive to his parents’ home 50 miles away.  But along the desolate road his car had a flat tire.  He discovered that his jack was broken.  No one was around to help him.  Fearful, he locked himself into his car and lay down to await dawn.  He tried to sleep, but could not.  He kept remembering phrases from the week’s sermons: “God is willing to accept you….Ask God once, and He will come.”

     For the first time in his life Henrique prayed.  He got out of the car, and knelt down on the road.  “God, I don’t know how to pray, but if what the pastor said is true, come and help me, please.”  He got back into the car to wait what might happen.

    Within minutes a car pulled off the road in front of him.  A tall, strong man stepped out and offered his help.  Henrique told him what had happened.  The man changed the tire, and then put his enormous hand on Henriques shoulder and said: “Young man I came to tell you that God loves you…”Henrique was startled and asked the man his name, but the man only repeated his words, “Don’t forget, God loves you.” Then he turned toward his car.

     Henrique got into his car, wiped tears from his eyes, then looked up to wave to the man who had helped him.  But no one was there.  No man, no car.  Henrique had not heard a car door slam or an engine start up.  He drove home in awed silence.

     Henrique was the first to arrive at the church on Friday evening.  He ran to open the door when I arrived, and quickly asked, “Pastor, can you baptize me?”  Startled, I listened to his story.

     The following year I baptized Henrique, and a short time later I married him and his girlfriend.  Today they are faithful members.

Neumoel Stina