How far does a little love go?

By Angelina Leigh

He owned the bar, as it turned out, and he had no customers at the time. Perfect, I thought, as I began to present my volunteer work. But by the time I had turned a couple of pages in my presentation album, Tino politely said that if I was there to sell anything, he was very low on money and wasn’t interested.

“I’m going through heavy depression. My doctor says that sitting in the glow from this thing is supposed to help,” he said, pointing to a neon light behind the bar. “Several of my friends have died recently, all from alcohol. No one seemed to care when they passed on. Now I feel like I could be next, and I fear that it will be the same for me. Will anyone really care?”

He went on to tell me at length about his problems—his excessive drinking and not being able to sleep at night without drinking a bottle of hard liquor first, his massive debts, and worst of all, his depression. When I asked him if he believed in Jesus, he answered, “I’m not sure.”

Jesus, make me a channel of Your love and answers to this lost and weary soul, I silently prayed. Then I told Tino how Jesus could light up his life. “He is the answer to all of your problems,” I said. “The Bible says that He is a very present help in time of trouble—any trouble.” We talked for over an hour. My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears as I put myself in the position of this poor, desperate man and considered what it was like for him, not knowing Jesus’ unconditional love or the peace He brings.

“Do you say these things to everyone you meet?” he asked at one point.

“No,” I answered, “but I do pray every time I talk deeply with someone. I pray that the words that come out of my mouth will be Jesus’ words—what He has to say to that person.”

By now Tino’s eyes were brimming with tears too, and I knew that Jesus was speaking to his heart, bringing a ray of light into his dark, gloomy world.

I told him that Jesus answers prayer, and about some of the miracles He had done for me, including how He had recently healed my foot. I had been in excruciating pain after an accident, but had needed to take a train to Finland in two days, with lots of luggage. At the time I couldn’t even put my shoe on, but I had prayed desperately for the Lord to heal my foot, and within minutes I could walk almost normally. I had made it to Finland on schedule, and here I was!

Tino showed me his hands, which I hadn’t noticed before. They were dry and scaly—an allergic reaction to the coins he handled day after day, he explained. I held his hands and prayed for Jesus to heal them, for his bank loan to come through so he wouldn’t lose his bar, and that he would come to accept Jesus into his heart. When I finished praying and we opened our eyes, he was in tears again and couldn’t speak for a while. He tremblingly wrote out his address for me, and I gave him some Activated mags that I knew would boost his faith. As I got up to leave and he asked if he could give me a hug, I knew I hadn’t wasted the last hour and a half.

Two years later I went to Finland again, and I made sure to visit Tino. The Lord had worked things out wonderfully, but differently than either of us had expected. He had lost his bar, so had taken a job as a bartender in someone else’s. “It was for the best,” he said, and it was clear that he really meant it. He was happy and talkative and looked like a new man. “Now I have so much less to worry about and so much more time to enjoy life and spend with my wife and children,” he said, all smiles. His hands weren’t completely healed, but his spirit had been healed, and that had been what he needed most. He certainly wasn’t the same depressed, sullen man I’d met two years earlier. A little love—God’s love—had changed his life.