Unsure how to help, a knot of 15 or 20 people crowded around the young man who lay broken on the ground near his wrecked motorbike. I had been driving to Phnom Penh when I came across the scene of the accident and stopped.

I examined the young man. A deep gash and trauma to his head were among the first things I noticed. His right middle fingertip was severed and dangling by some skin. He also had painful trauma to his lower abdomen.

I asked him his name, but he was unable to respond clearly. I asked the people huddled around us if anyone knew him and could get him to a hospital. A police officer in the group said that no one had a car. I decided to take him to the hospital in the village I had just come through. Three other men and I lifted him into my van. No one wanted to accompany us, so we drove to the hospital alone. I had gotten the phone number of the police officer to communicate about the young man. As I drove, I prayed aloud for the young man, asking Jesus to be with him and help him through his ordeal.

At the small hospital, the doctor examined him out and referred him to a bigger hospital in Kampong Cham, about an hour and a half away. Through the police officer, I managed to contact the young man’s mother and pick her up on the way. At one point during that long drive, the young man made some noises and managed to say, “Soom dtuck,” (“Water please”).

I pulled over and gave him several capfuls. I told him that Jesus loved him and would help him. “Au-coon,” (“Thank you,”) he said in a weak voice. We finally arrived at the big hospital. The doctors found that he had internal bleeding in his liver. They did emergency surgery, but they told me they didn’t have much hope for him. I kept praying earnestly for this precious child of God, and my wife and the Clay family prayed, too. Praise God, the young man made it through the night and is now in stable condition! The family was so grateful, and God gets the glory.

Had I not stopped for this young man, the chances are high that he would have passed away. While helping him, the story of the Good Samaritan came to my mind. In the story the Samaritan exemplifies Jesus and His relationship with us. We are broken, destitute, hopeless and robbed by the enemy of souls. But Jesus takes us in His arms, binds up our wounds and exchanges His holiness for our filthiness.

As I was leaving the hospital, the young man’s mother ran out to the van to thank me again. I had watched her go through a trying ordeal as she nearly lost her son. Her face now beamed with gratitude. I told her that I would continue to pray for her son. I am looking forward to following up with them and sharing more about the God who helped them through. I thank our Heavenly Father that I was running late so I could be just in time to help this precious family.

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