Disappear

Friday night after street soccer and a brief stop by the Micah house, a few friends and I take a ride in the back of a friend's truck through El Centro (downtown Tegucigalpa). The truck is unusually slow-moving because of heavy traffic, and a man approaches us in the truck. He starts talking to us in accented but fluent English, asking us loudly what were are doing in his country. He doesn't wait for an answer. He tells us to leave. He tells us he hates us, that Hondurans hate us. He tells us that we don't want him in our country, and he doesn't want us in his. (Maybe he had been deported...? Or had heard about Arizona's new immigration law...) He curses us out vehemently in extremely strong language. All the while he is walking alongside the truck with us, his loud, angry voice is raised just behind me and is drawing stares from the crowded sidewalks. I start to worry he is going to spit on us.

He starts chanting "Disappear! Disappear!" and then "Desaparezcan!" My heart feels heavy in my chest, and I start wondering if this is more of a spiritual attack than just a verbal one. I begin to pray: "Lord Jesus, please shut his mouth--"

Immediately the man stops talking and walks away.


(True story. 2/10/2011)