Free Courageous by Randy Alcorn

other men hadn’t gotten there first. If only they needed just one more guy.
    As he walked aimlessly, Javier stepped off the street into an alley between houses. He began to pray aloud, facing the sky and gesturing.
    “ Señor, no comprendo. I am trying to provide for my family. I need Your help. Por qué no me ayudes? Have I done something to displease You?”
    Javy walked on, his emotions turbulent, wishing for a rock to kick.
    “ Dije a la familia que nos ayudaría. I told my family You would help us, Lord. What can I tell them now? Are we going to lose our home?”
    He stopped in the middle of the alley. Overwhelmed, he put his hands on his face, then stretched out his hands and cried, “What do You want me to do? Dios, por favor , que debo hacer? God, please show me what to do!”
    Why did God seem so silent?
    If Javier’s own children ever asked him for help finding work, he wouldn’t dream of refusing them. Then why was God refusing Javy? Por qué?
    “Hey, Javier!”
    Javier blinked. Had he heard right? He turned and saw someone he didn’t know standing in a driveway sixty feet away, holding a tape measure.
    “What are you doing?” the man asked him. Javier glanced over his shoulder to make sure the stranger wasn’t talking to someone else. But the man had called him by name.
    “I’m not paying you $150 to just stand there! Let’s go!”
    In the Mitchell yard, Adam snapped the tape measure shut and clipped it to his belt, then noticed the stunned expression on Javier’s face as he tentatively walked toward the yard. Did I scare him? Maybe he doesn’t understand English.
    “Adam, be nice!” Victoria approached Adam from the house, a water bottle in her hand.
    “He’s late. He was just standing in the middle of the alley. I’m paying him by the day, and he’s not cheap!”
    “You need his help, so you’d better start off on the right foot! Don’t go cop on him, okay?”
    Adam sighed, then turned to Javier as he cautiously walked up the driveway.
    Adam extended his hand. “You are Javier, right?”
    Javier, wearing a bewildered expression, shook his hand. “Yes. I am Javier.”
    “Adam Mitchell. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He glanced at Victoria. “I should have come out and talked to you. This is my wife, Victoria.”
    Victoria reached out her hand. “Hey, Javier, nice to meet you. I’ll go get you a water bottle.”
    Adam pointed at the table. “Okay, I’ve got the plans for the shed right here. My old one’s falling apart. I figure it should take both of us a week or so. Wait. You didn’t bring any tools?”
    “Uh, no.”
    “All right, we’ll just have to share. Have you ever built a shed before?”
    Javier gazed at the plans. “Yes.”
    “Sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but do you have a work permit?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Good. Let me show you what we’re doing. But first, so there’s no misunderstanding, I want a solid eight hours of work, not counting breaks for water or looking up at the sky or talking to yourself. You’re good with $150 a day, right? Because if you’re looking for more, I need to know right now.”
    “$150 a day . . . would be very good!”
    “Okay. Good. Let’s get going!”
    Adam and Javier leveled the ground and set concrete blocks for the foundation. After four hours of nonstop work, they had the rim joists leveled and the floor joists nailed to the hangers. Adam sat down to eat the lunch that Victoria brought for them. His shoulders ached. Javier walked over, put an apple in his mouth, and went back to work. Adam rolled his eyes. This is the guy who was goofing off in the alley this morning?
    Taking a big bite of his apple, Adam got up to join Javier.

    Javier insisted on finishing the studs after Adam went in to get cleaned up. So at 6:30 that evening, when Javy was finally ready to go, Adam wrote him a check for $150.
    Javier sang during most of his thirty-minute walk home. Hardly able to contain himself, he opened the