A few years ago, Carol and I helped out at a youth camp where the clients were mainly children of refugees from Southeast Asia. We were involved for 3 camps. The first summer, Carol was a teacher for junior high kids, and I was a counselor for a bunch of 19-20 year old guys. The second, we both helped with the counselor prep time and we both taught. The third year it was just Carol helping with the preparation.
One of those years, a camper died in a fishing accident. Over the years he had stirred up somewhat of a ruckus, but at the last camp he attended, he decided to follow Jesus. This was a guy I had talked with at that last camp -- he'd told me about his family situation, his idea of what he'd do after high school, and so on. A couple of months later, he was gone.
Anyway, one of the guys from that first summer called me some months ago. He urged me to call another camper, who he was afraid had gotten into drugs. I felt awkward, and kept putting it off. But after reading today's passage, I opened my wallet, where his phone number was written. I felt silly for waiting so long. Carol and I prayed. I picked up the phone and dialed the number.
Too late. "The number you dialed is not a working number. Please check the number and try again." I did. Same result.
What has happened to him? Why did I wait so long?