Said Creepy Guy: "I'll Tell You What I'd like to Do with Her ---"

There have been many defining moments in my life since Christ saved me at the age of eighteen. Some moments were taught in joyous times, but the biggies -- those "I'll never forget it moments" -- usually those come with a loud dose of cold, hard reality. Such is the case of this unforgettable story in my life.

Five years ago, I was a reluctant volunteer, chaperone, actually, for sixty 10^th and 11th graders from Covenant Christian School. Our launching point: Palm Bay, Florida. The destination for this week long stay: Charleston, South Carolina. The trip would take us to the USS Yorktown where we pretty much enjoyed the run of the ship. Sleeping in the bunks, having devotions on the carrier's main deck, chowing down literally in the same chow hall where so many brave young men ate many years before.

Though the destination and ship were exciting, the experience was magnified even more by what God was beginning to do in my heart.

You see. Even though I was on this trip, I just didn't have time for teenagers.

No time for teenagers

Sure, both of my kids were in their teens (one, just crossing into it), but I just didn't have time for their friends. Frankly, it almost felt like I hardly noticed them at all. I didn't want to be bothered. So, why was I reluctantly chaperoning such a large group?

All of that was about to change.

God had spoken to me on this trip. He wanted me to pray for them. I was still quite a newbie in this prayer area. I had grumbled and complained, and given God every reason why I shouldn't - and couldn't -- be praying for them. But in the end, God patiently waited me out and then decided to really shake me up with a peek into what an "unprayerful" heart really accomplishes.

At night ... on our way to Savannah, Georgia

Near the end of our multi-day trip, our buses (there were two) made their way south along dark and winding two-lane roads. Because of my seat location near the front of the second bus, it became clear that the two bus drivers were not altogether on the same page as to the route to be taking this night. I began to wonder if we were lost. There had been no sign of civilization and barely any cars on the road at this ten o'clock hour. The drivers argued over the radio, and after some time a rest stop finally came into view. The twenty passengers with me seemed to all sigh in relief as the two buses found parking spots and the forty others from the first bus hit the restrooms with us in one huge stampede.

Threat Radar

Have you ever stepped into a situation where your "Spidey" sense begins to tingle?

As soon as I set foot off the bus, my threat radar seemed to light up. Half of the lights were out at this lonesome rest area, and in various places there were solitary men standing around, shuffling aimlessly in the cold night air. The place didn't feel safe, but at this point there was no stopping the mad dash for the restrooms.

I made a quick trip myself and then positioned myself halfway between the guys and gal's restrooms. My unease would not let up. Beneath the small glow of the parking lot lights I could still see a few of the creepy guys lurking around.

My concentration was broke when at that moment one of the young men from our group, John Kartzinel, came over and we began to banter back and forth about just plain silly stuff. I think we even got into a mock sword fight using ball point pens. It was all completely child's play, and I found myself actually enjoying the childish amusement. That is, until creepy guy entered the picture.

Are the restrooms clear?

I had just polled a few girls as they came out of the restroom, to make sure that none were missed.

"Any more in there?"

"Lots," one young lady called back as she walked back toward the buses.

Another came out and began to wander into a darkened area. "Are there candy machines back here?"

I urged her to stay with a partner, don't wander off alone, and that, "no", there were no machines there.

John and I exchanged a joke or two and then I saw him. Coming closer. Dressed in a heavy dark blue jacket, he walked up to John and me and asked about our group. He seemed, at first, to be agitated and anxious that we would somehow vandalize the property. It was then that I noticed a patch on his coat that indicated he worked for whatever state we were in; apparently he was some sort of night watchman of sorts.

"I had a bus last week come in... kids nearly destroyed the place," he complained.

John and I looked at each other. John answered first, "We're not going to wreck your place. These are good kids."

"We're a Christian school," I offered, as though that automatically guaranteed freedom from destruction.

At that moment, over near the buses, someone from our group broke out a soccer ball and began to kick it around. Others laughed and quickly joined in.

"They're going to wreck the grass!" creepy guy shouted and then he ran off to chastise the players.

John and I looked at each other and broke into silly giggles, and our mock "sword" fight began anew. More girls exited; one read my mind as I looked toward the door: "There's still more of us in there."

"Ok," I called back.

The dark jacket returned. He looked between John and me, then over at the women's restroom. Three of the girls from my bus came out and began to walk toward the parking lot. It was then, that it happened.

"See that one in yellow?" Creepy guy started. Then, he bent over, head cocked as though attempting to look up her skirt. "Yeah. That one in yellow. I'll tell you what I'd like to do with her---"

It's at this part of the story that I'd like to pause and ask you, the reader, a question: If you were in this situation, and some creepy stranger was going to make some obvious disparaging sexual remark about a young 16-year old girl in your company, would you stop them? Would you essentially come to the "rescue" of this girl? Would you at least attempt to interrupt their sordid and vile track of conversation? Or would you just stand there and listen to him pour forth obscenities on a person you care about?

I just stood there.

Next to me, sixteen year old John extended his palm out and exploded with a, "STOP!" and stepped closer to creepy guy.

And stop he did, his mouth hanging open, his entire line of communication halted like a flyswatter squashing a bug.

John continued: "I don't know what it is that you're going to say... but I have an IDEA of what you're about to say. That girl -- those girls -- are my friends, and I'm not going to stand here and let you talk like that about them."

To this day, I can still remember creepy guy turning a shocked expression my way, mouth still open. His look said, "Can you believe this kid? You're an adult, why don't you set him straight. Let's get away from him and verbally exploit these girls."

Time seemed to stop. Tension clung to that cold concrete like the fog around the parking lights. John stood poised to physically restrain creepy guy should he utter another word. And get this... I (Yeah, me. The silent, non objector) suddenly find the (choke) amazing courage to say, "I regard these girls as sisters. I'd appreciate it if you'd change the subject."

Oh, how saccharinely sweet that sounds today. Truth was, had I truly seen them as sisters I probably would have had a much stronger reaction.

Another girl came out of the restroom and called over to me, "That's it. I'm the last one."

John began to follow behind her, casting an occasional glance over his shoulder. Creepy guy still hadn't said a word; utter shock still stamped on his face.

I mumbled something or other to him and then walked back toward my bus, and told a few of the girls near the front of the bus what had just transpired. "You have an amazing friend in John," I said quietly.

To this day, I still regret not getting on the overhead intercom and shouting out what John had just done. Then I would have walked over to the larger bus, grabbed the microphone, and done the same thing!

When the two busses rumbled off, leaving the whole creepy place behind, and the animated laughter and banter of twenty high school students aboard our small bus quieted, I discovered something about me.

I had failed.

Failure.

In the days that followed, I began to analyze the sequence of events that had led up to the "creepy guy" experience. I knew that something was bothering me. And as I quietly allowed God's Holy Spirit to speak to me, a truth began to crystallize: I hadn't stopped the creepy guy. John had. In that simple revelation, my eyes began to open to the young people around me. My heart began to break. These were people that God care for. That He loved.

John's example had been used of God to break through my stony heart. I followed God's urging and began to pray earnestly for these students... even wild, non-traditional and crazy, creative prayers like you can find here. God was changing me. He was actively taking my failure as a Christian chaperone, and completely transforming me from the inside out.

Look hard enough and you can even find evidence of this change in some of my Christian fiction work. I want to have a heart like Hugh Vander. I want my life to ring true like Rick Cager's. I want to face fear and help others like high schooler, Nate.

In the years since that scary rest stop, it's been a pleasure to stay in touch with John. I would imagine that if you were to examine him closely, you'd likely find the same kinds of fears, questions, successes and failures that we all encounter and face. No, despite what you might think, neither he nor I wear a blue cape with a big "S" on it, nor does everything that God brings into our lives always fit into a comfy, cozy, easy-to-understand package.

The creepy guys? Yeah, they're still out there. But with God's help and strength, I'm resolving to stand up next time. I want the strength that John had in that moment of trial. To speak out. Not stay silent.

To be like a righteous, modern day knight.

To stand true.

God, give me your strength to be the one. To bring and show Your light to all I encounter. Amen.

© Copyright 2010 - Ron Masters

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Be the One
Words and music by Al Denson

In a world full of broken dreams
Where the truth is hard to find
For every promise that is kept
There are many left behind
Though it seems that nobody cares
It still matters what you do
Cause there's a difference you can make
But the choice is up to you

Chorus
Will you be the one
To answer to His call
Will you stand
When those around you fall
Will you be the one
To take His light
Into a darkened world
Tell me will you be the one

Oh sometimes it's hard to know
Who is right and what is wrong
And where are you supposed to stand
When the battle lines are drawn
There's a voice that is calling out
For someone who's not afraid
To be a beacon in the night
To a world that's lost its way

There are still some battles
That I must fight from day to day
Yet the Lord provides the power
For me to stand and say

Chorus
I will be the one
To answer to His call
I will stand
When those around me fall
I will be the one
To take His light
Into a darkened world
I will be the one

Al Denson's website