Romania. Day one. Sitting in this makeshift waiting room I'm reminded of the blind man sitting on the side of the road in Jericho. His name was Bartimaeus. You’ve heard me talk about him before perhaps as it relates to my own suffering. But when Bartimaeus heard it was Jesus walking by, he began to shout out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Over and over he yelled. Despite being rebuked by others, he continued to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" And it's the reaction of Jesus that captures me in this moment. The Bible says that when Jesus heard him shouting, He “stopped walking.” Some Bible versions say that He "stood still," and other translations say He "stopped in His tracks.” I’ll come back to that.

With a fancy camera I’m still learning to use, I crouch in the corner among the families awaiting wheelchairs and Bibles. As an old writer, the assignment on this Wheels for the World outreach felt natural enough; easy. Capture the scene. Document the story. What I didn’t expect was either.

HANDS DOWN
From what I could tell, nobody dropped him off. Nobody escorted him in. He just made his way to us on his hands. Using two wooden blocks about the size of bricks with homemade handles - picture two Olympic pommel horse grips - Florin (pronounced Floor-een), 41, made his way inside the venue and began to wait his turn. With his legs coiled up underneath him, this is how he’s been entering rooms since he was 5-years old.

With the blocks of wood now serving as his seat in the holding area, you could tell he was no stranger to tight quarters. As our eyes met, I smiled gently. He didn’t. The look on his face said that he had seen the look on mine many times before. I’m pretty sure I turned away first.

Gulp. With tears already streaming down my face and onto my camera, I found myself longing for his name to be called, for him to get his first wheelchair, and for him to hear that Jesus loves him; just hurry with all of it, please.

ADVERSITY DRAWN
As we waited, I wondered what kind of adversity he’d endured over the course of his life. How painful had it been? The mere mention of the word pain and some of you can relate because of a pain you never saw coming. You may not be walking on your hands as you navigate traffic, but you’re dealing with a pain you don't know if you can endure, because you don't know if it will ever end. The kind of pain that's disorienting, because you can't remember what it felt like not to hurt. The kind of pain accompanied by excruciating, debilitating, humiliating misery. Physical, emotional, invisible adversity. Something tells me Florin would understand. Something tells me he’s been sitting on the side of that dusty road in Jericho.

THE WEDDING SINGER
Well, although he was a bit camera shy at first, by the time he made his way into the distribution center, he had become fast friends with the entire room which, if I’m not mistaken, included a marriage proposal to one of Joni’s most faithful volunteers, Susan, who was serving on something like her 20th Wheels trip.

Florin’s face was dark with thick leathery skin and pronounced grooves in his cheeks that deepened as he smiled. His raspy voice was a testament and likely a byproduct of one of his many talents and means of income…part-time wedding singer.

With a lump in my throat, I emerged from behind the safety of my camera and extended my hand to shake his. His rough palm was jet black. His big, strong fingers swallowed mine. I squeezed harder as if to initiate a grip challenge and he returned the favor with a confident grin. (He won.)

CHILDLIKE ENTHUSIASM
As the experts on the team worked on a chair that would be ideal for Florin, we learned that at the age of five, his legs stopped working. A failed surgery 20 years ago, along with no medical care since, he’s done his best with the least. He lives with his brother and finds work in the fields. His chair almost complete, we gave him Joni Eareckson Tada’s book and began laying the groundwork for the Gospel message that would soon be delivered to him by the in-country pastors.

Long story short, when he was presented his wheelchair, we had to hold him back. But once we explained the details and the ins and outs of some of the specifics, he was simply done listening. He transferred himself into the chair with reckless abandon and began to sing. His powerful hands maneuvered the wheelchair around the room with childlike faith and a refreshing, natural fearlessness that seemed to rub off on all of us.

By the time a new set of families had entered the building, Florin was outside in his new wheelchair. On his lap sat a pair of worn-out wooden blocks and a Bible. I was told that Florin didn’t hear about the wheelchair outreach in Romania until the night before. My gut tells me he didn’t want the Lord to take another sweet step, so he stole that line from Bartimaeus and got up.

Speaking of, when Bartimaeus received his sight, the Bible says that the very first thing he did was follow Jesus along the road. I suppose he figured the best test of his new eyes was to focus on the One who finally made them work.

I like to think that Florin is doing the very same thing.

- Jimmy Peña

THANK YOU!
Please allow me to thank you for praying for us, giving to us and for spreading the word for us; which is why we’re not us without you. Tuesday’s #GIVINGTUESDAY charity drive was a unique blessing as we embarked upon our vocation of serving those impacted by disability. If you want to join us in our mission, you click HERE or on the image and join The Body. Because of you, we will deliver more wheelchairs to Romania, Brazil and help fund special needs ministry in your neighborhoods. In a word…stoked.