Have You Lost Someone?

They started with the taxi driver who had taken them to the store. But he dismissed the message with indifference: “I’d rather sleep than read,” he said, walking off without looking back. A cold, discouraging response, to say the least.

Next, Amy approached a young autistic man collecting donations at the entrance to the store. She tried to talk to him, shared a kind word, and explained the message on the back of the Spark magazine. He seemed interested, but before he could accept it, his supervisor arrived and asked him to pack up the table. He wasn’t allowed to take the magazine with him.

After a couple of encounters like this, many would have given up.

Because sometimes, hearts seem hard.

Sometimes, the only response you get is a shy look, a one-line response, or silence.

But then other times, out of nowhere, a conversation comes that makes it all worth it.

That day, that moment was meant for a man named Mike.

Mike was there, at the front entrance of the store, too. He greeted the young autistic man with warmth, gently placing five dollars in his donation box. Amy noticed the gesture and approached him with a kind smile. “You’re very generous—and really thoughtful with him,” she said. Mike nodded, his response genuine: he used to come every week to support the boy’s cause. He wasn’t just a regular visitor—he was someone carrying a deep story.

He began to speak to Amy with disarming honesty. No reservations. No resistance. He told her he had lost his first son as a baby in 2011. Years later, he had a daughter, but the pain lingered like a quiet shadow. He found comfort in believing his son was in heaven.

Amy, guided by the Holy Spirit and the preparation she’d received during the GO Trip training, listened attentively. There was no hurry. She shared a simple yet deeply profound message: “The Father also gave up His Son.”

She showed him the Spark magazine, and in its pages, Mike found more than words—he found a story that mirrored his own: grief, sacrifice, and hope. His eyes changed as their conversation deepened.

Amy gently asked: “How did you get over that loss? What gave you comfort?”

Mike replied: “I know my son is in heaven.”

Amy nodded tenderly and added a heartfelt question: “What about you? Should you one day arrive at Heaven’s gate… will God let you in?”

Mike paused. That comparison landed with weight. “I did a lot of good things. I tried to be good and so on. I'm not sure… it depends on Him.”

Amy opened the Hope magazine to the section about the gift of Jesus and explained: “He actually pushed that responsibility to you. It depends on you, not Him.”

Mike stood still, reflective. He listened. He understood. And he chose to believe.

Before they parted ways, he asked for another copy of the Spark magazine—this time for his twelve-year-old daughter. “She would love the Spark magazine,” he said, moved by this “chance” meeting. He wanted to be a good example to her, to share what he had just discovered. They hugged. And though only God knows the final state of Mike’s heart, that day was different. A seed was planted. And perhaps, a life was made new.

Mike, a man marked by the loss of his first son at only six months old, found hope this day, among the white lights of a Walmart aisle. Amid the supermarket’s hurried pace and everyday indifference, something happened that seemed trivial… but it wasn’t.

GO Trip encounters like this one aren’t just memories from the past. They’re living invitations that keep transforming lives long after the return flight. This story didn’t happen in Africa or Latin America. It happened in a Canadian Walmart, right in the middle of everyday noise—because the mission doesn’t depend on the place; it depends on the willingness of believers to act in obedience.

If you’ve ever said “yes” …that call is still echoing. Because perhaps, between shopping carts and grocery aisles, someone may be waiting for a word only you can share.

What if the next eternal encounter depends on you saying “yes” again?