Friend

Gil is one friend among the very few I have. And when I say few, I really mean fewer than few. He is known among veteran bikers in the local motorcycle community, and has been riding big bikes when I was probably still in grade school. Now at 66 years of age, doing 140 on the freeway is a stroll for him. When the circle of friends we were riding with eventually formalized itself into a club and I was opposed, he shared my sentiments against it. When I closed my welding shop in Parañaque and moved to Bulacan, that was our last contact. He has been in my prayers ever since the LORD found me. Time and again, I would be reminded to visit him and share the gospel, but I always had an excuse. I cannot help but think I had a fault in this and was to blame, that he had to be hurt before I would go to show my concern for his soul.

This last week while fixing his bike alone in his home,  his hand got caught inside the gears, trapping his index finger. For over an hour he tried to free himself, struggling to remain conscious while losing  almost a pint of blood until help came. Suddenly he was surrounded by firemen, neighbors, relatives, all trying to help. But they cannot loosen the gears, so the only thing left was to crank the gear one full revolution forward while his finger was inside. That did free the hand, but now the finger hung limp only by the skin.

He was rushed to the nearest hospital, and was turned away. He was again rushed to the next nearest hospital, only to be turned away again. This time they took him to Philippine General Hospital. This one is really further away. Upon arriving, he was told to wait in the corridors for somebody to attend to him. That was on Monday. When he was finally attended to, the damaged finger had died. It was already Thursday.

I received news about it Thursday, the same day he got operated on, but I was only able to travel the next day. My daughter and I took the bus all the way to Manila Domestic Airport, near where he lived. We left the house at 2.30 in the afternoon and arrived by 6PM. I thanked God. I took my preaching gear with me if ever there was still an opportunity to do street ministry on the way home. But seeing how late it was, and we still have to catch the last bus home, it was not to be. This night, Gil was the only reason for this errand.

One of the best experiences I have with Gil is when we get to talk. Absolutely no pretenses. Just straight talk. He may be 25 years older than me, but he had the energy of a young man. My daughter and I prayed silently while Gil and I relived our days. Until finally, God opened a window for the law and the gospel. I took out a tract, and read it for him, explaining as I went along. He was in near tears as he quietly acknowledged  his sins, his anxieties and depressions, his guilt, the hurt he kept from his separation in marriage. Too many for that short space. There was a seriousness in his tone that told me we were talking at the basest level. Everything was out in the open now. The certainty of the wages of death, and the promises of Christ's salvation, I pray, is clear.

He asked that we connect again, and when he is fully recovered, wants to travel to Bulacan to talk further about these things. As we said our goodbyes, I did what I always do when marking momentous events in my life: I jump ahead of time to look back to today. I rode countless times in and out of this street. Almost two decades later, I am looking at the same view. Time is passing. Each day, we march one day closer to the grave. Loved ones will pass. The same loved ones we are speaking with a moment ago, are now behind us. That phrase - a moment ago - should tell us a lot of things that make taking things for granted a habit we should seek to improve on. 

Yesterday, I am sharing a meal with my precious daughter, today I am giving her away in marriage. Yesterday, I fell asleep beside my wife, today I am burying her. Today I have an opportunity to proclaim the gospel, tomorrow, the opportunity is gone.

Be thankful. Hug someone. Talk with someone. Take every opportunity to do good. Tomorrow is never promised. Our biggest regrets come from doing things we should never have done, saying things we should never have said, and neglected those things that we should have done, and said those things we now wish we could say - one more time.

James 4:13 and 14
 Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”, yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.