Day 16: Looking for a book

I felt like I cheated today. Mary said I didn’t. But if you go and stand in the Christian section of the bookstore and look at the guy next to you, chances are he’s a Christian. And he was.


He was an older gentleman standing not two feet from me, perusing the titles. I finally mustered the courage, put down my book and asked if he was a Christian. He said he was, and I asked if I could pray for him. Puzzled, he engaged me in a series of questions then, starting with “about what?” I told him anything, that I’d felt called by God to pray for people. He seemed to find that a reasonable response, and then asked me about my profession, where I worked and where I went to church. Finally, he let me pray for him. I just asked for God’s blessing on him.


We talked a bit longer. He was a little detached -- and hard of hearing. I discovered he attended a Baptist church on the east side. He was holding a couple of Chuck Colson books in his hand, which he said he really liked. But he had been looking for books by an author named Tony Campolo. I’d never heard of him. After a bit of a search, we were able to locate one Campolo book, but it wasn’t the one my new friend was looking for. We talked a little more and then I left.


It was a pleasant meeting, but for some reason, I didn’t feel like I accomplished much.


Scripture of the day: “Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly, we commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.” – 2 Corinthians 4:1-2.

Day 15: Idling

I was stuck in the office most of the day today, so I took a walk before I went home from work, thinking maybe God would open a door. I was downtown and most of the evening rush was gone, so the streets were relatively quiet. I eventually circled back to where my car was parked, a little disappointed.

But I did see a guy sitting in his car close to mine. His windows were tinted, but as I walked by, I could see him leaning way back in his seat, texting someone on his phone. It was one of those where I didn't exactly feel God's pull, but the opportunity was there, so I took it. I got in my car, paused a moment for courage and then pulled my car right up alongside his.

This clearly startled him. I motioned for him to roll down his window. When he leaned up to speak to me, I could see him holding a glass bottle. I couldn't see the label. He was a young guy, his hat turned backward. I asked if I could pray for him. He looked away as he considered this and then mumbled an answer that was vaguely in the negative, some mix of "I don't know;" "Not right now;" and "No." I asked if he was sure, and he said he was. So I thanked him and drove off. I prayed for him on my way home.

This is the Scripture I've been studying the past week, and the one I read before leaving work tonight: "Unless I (Jesus) go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment." John 16:7b-8. 

Day 14: Picking up the phone

I prayed for a relative today who was hurting. He didn’t sound like he was hurting. Not one bit. But he’d been through something none of us ever would want to go through. He felt a lot of responsibility suddenly, and he was trying to live up to it. But internally, this had to be hurting him. So I called and we talked and we prayed. He thanked me. That’s the end of the story. The beginning was much more tortured than that.

How do we go about praying for people in need? How do we reach out to those people who we know need a hand, a word, something? I felt God first urging me to make that call almost a week ago. But I waited. I’m not sure I can tally up all the reasons for the procrastination, but the following is the short list. These thoughts actually went skittering across my mind during the past week: I don’t want to bother him. He and I never were that close to begin with. What if I catch him in the middle of something important? Maybe he doesn’t want help. What if I offend him with something I say? He might think I’m prying, that I’m a busy-body. I’ve never been through something like what he’s going through now. I’m sure he’s getting lots of calls like this one already.

And so I stalled. That’s a terrible thing to do. Paul says God “comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God” (2 Corinthians 1:4). The word “any” stands out to me. If it’s “any trouble,” then I have no excuse. I’ve been comforted by God. One of the reasons God comforted me was so that I, in turn, will be able to comfort others. So when I see someone who I know is hurting, I’m obligated to act.

Day 13: An invite

Today, I was obedient. Yes, to God. But also, to one of my spiritual mothers at church. She pulled me aside last Sunday after hearing about this year-long assignment I've been working on. She told me about her nephew, whom she wanted to come to church. He'd be a great addition to our fellowship, she said. She told me where he lived, and I promised to go find him.

So today, I found myself standing on his front porch, ringing the doorbell. I'd been told he was remodeling his home, and the evidence of it was all around. It looked like a big job. He seemed a very nice guy, about my age. He smiled when I told him who sent me, and we had a nice talk. I offered any help with his project, and he thanked me for it. I invited him to church. He made no promises. The conversation lasted no more than five minutes, but I walked away feeling good about it. I fulfilled my promise, and I'd extended a hand outside my normal territory. Who knows where God will take it from here?

Scripture of the day: "For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." -- Philippians 2:13.

Day 12: A non-believer

Today was a bit different. There was no stranger. No prayer. Just talking, trying to answer questions, and learning. As God prepared me for this assignment, He guided me in putting my Bible on my desk at work. Just put it there in plain sight. So it’s been there for several weeks now, and it was opened to 2 Timothy. A friend of mine in the office asked, “What’s the word from Timothy today?” So I told him what I’d read and asked if he knew about it. “I’m not real religious,” he replied.
That stuck in my head for several hours. Had I missed an opportunity, a place where God was at work? So later that day, I asked him what he meant when he said he wasn’t religious. Does that mean he doesn’t like church? Or does he not believe in God?

“I think we’re all just part of the animal kingdom, just like everything else,” he said. That surprised me. This was a good man, someone with a quick heart to serve. And he didn’t believe. But he wasn’t offensive. He wasn’t pushy. He was just a relativist. He said everyone is entitled to his own views. The conversation ranged pretty broadly from there: He asked about whether it was important to go to church, why Christianity would be better than any other religion, and how one could believe in God. I answered him where I could.

I told him he must think I’m nuts, believing the way that I do. Oh no, he said – Definitely not; everyone can believe something different. But, I countered, you don’t believe it, so you must think I’m wrong. No, he said, I just don’t know what to believe.

So there was that bit of hope. Maybe there was an opening there. I told him that he eventually needed to make a decision. Either he believed or he didn’t. And it would be best to do that while there was time. And I told him I would pray for him.

It was a friendly conversation – even as we tried to pull each other in different directions. It gave me plenty to think about, primarily about how I should respond to tough questions. But at the same time, I feel like the Holy Spirit was at work – in having that Bible open on my desk, in giving me the courage to strike up a serious conversation and giving me the words to use to show that I care.

And it reaffirmed my theory that the people closest to us oftentimes are the hardest to reach.

Day 11: The talker

I spotted him when I rounded the corner. It was a narrow street, with tall buildings on either side. He was sitting alone. This was where workers from a nearby restaurant came to smoke. And he was looking at me. Almost all the way down the street, his eyes were on me. I said a little prayer as I got close, but he spoke first.

“How ya doing?” It was just one of those greetings you give somebody in passing. And I’m sure he thought I’d say “great” and then head on down the street. But I had my mission. So I stopped and asked my question. It seemed to confuse him. “Pray for me?” he said. Then he paused. At first, I thought it was a good pause, a pause of reflection. And then he started talking. I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps he thought he could remain in control of the situation if he just kept his lips moving. And so he kept talking.

Here’s a summary: Sure I could pray for him. There’s no law against that. I could say anything I wanted. And it’s good to pray. Everyone should pray. But you also should pray for yourself. Do you pray for yourself? (I said I did). Everyone should pray for themselves sometimes. That’s really the most important thing. (I interjected here to reiterate that I wanted to pray for him.) Well, you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. I may not listen to what you’re saying. I may not listen to your words, but you can say whatever you want.

So I took that as an invitation and bowed my head. I prayed for him, asking God to bless him that day and surround this man with His presence. When I looked up, the man’s head was bowed. And he wasn’t talking. So we made progress.

All while this was happening – while my new friend was sharing with me – two more employees from the restaurant came out to smoke. One thought it was pretty amusing. The other seemed a bit confused by it all. I just thanked them and walked away.

Day 10: A toll worker

The pause may have been longer than the prayer. Even with all the traffic around, I think I could hear crickets. It was so long I thought maybe I’d made him mad when I asked if I could pray for him.

This was the toll road guy, who took my 30 cents as I got off the turnpike. He was an older guy, a rim of white hair around the sides and baldness on top. He was pretty humorless. At first, I started to hand him my business card, which was in my hand for some reason, before I stopped and gave him my turnpike ticket. I chuckled about it. He didn’t.

Then I gave him the change, and asked him if I could ask him a question. Pause. “Can I pray for you?” Pause. Thinking maybe he couldn’t hear me, I asked again. “Can I pray for you?” Pause. He looked at me then. I think all this was a bit of a surprise for him, jolting him out of the monotony. But he finally agreed to it. It was a short prayer. Cars were piling up behind me then. I think I saw a little smile when I thanked him and drove off.

Day 9: Emergency workers

Some sort of training exercise was held today in an empty parking lot not far from where we live. I saw the emergency vehicles gathered there when I was on my way home for lunch, so I stopped by. Three guys were leaning against their cars when I drove up. I suppose they were standing watch to make sure no one got in and disturbed what was going on. They were just idly talking.

One of them was a short guy in fatigues – Army Guard, I think. Then there was a big burly guy – a police officer or a state trooper. And there was another older guy, sitting in the driver’s seat of a van. I’m not sure who he was with. I asked if I could pray for them. The Army guy said that would be OK, at least it was OK with him. He seemed the most willing. The other two agreed as well. So I prayed for them and their safety, thanking God for guys willing to do what they do.

They thanked me, and I left. That makes seven days in a row people have allowed me to pray for them. All I had to do was ask.

Day 8: The blue-haired student

It’s true. Her hair was blue, streaked with some kind of grayish color. I had to drive to Joplin, Mo., this morning to do some work, and she was the first person I saw when I pulled into the gas station. We stood there, about 10 feet apart, watching the dollars add up as we pumped gas. Along with the blue hair, she had several tattoos and was wearing all black – not fully goth, but something along the border of it. I’d guess she was about 20 years old.

I built up the courage once more and asked if I could ask her a question. She immediately put her gas cap down and turned to me. When I asked if I could pray for her, her face brightened and she stepped up on the pump island next to me. I prayed that God would bless her that day and that she would feel his presence.

She thanked me and said she needed that. Turns out, she had a competition that day at beauty school. She noted her hair – I guess that was part of the competition – and said she had been a natural blonde. Not sure what to say to that, I wished her luck. Just before she got back into her car, she thanked me again and told me to have a great day.

I believe God worked through me today. Hope the blue hair won.

By the way, this project is now an interstate one.

Day 7: My mother

It was a sad day, the worst kind of a day. As we were getting ready to leave for church, we got a call from my brother in Colorado. It couldn’t be good news – that time, that day. It wasn’t. My aunt had died in a motorcycle accident. My uncle was in intensive care, on a ventilator. They have three college-age children.

It’s devastating news. News you sit and try to process. I called my mother. She was close to her sister. And as she was vacationing in Colorado anyway, she was there with one of her sister’s sons. So I prayed with her, over the phone, on my knees at our house. I felt God’s presence – His Holy Spirit at work. I prayed for comfort for our family in this time when things were happening that we didn’t understand, that we couldn’t control. But he understands. He has control. And He can bring comfort and peace to broken hearts. Tears were dripping onto my clenched hands by the time I finished.

That’s all for today.

I’ve found comfort in Psalm 139. It’s one of my favorite Scriptures. Here’s vv. 5-10:

“You hem me in – behind and before;
    you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.”

Day 6: The banker

The bank was quiet for a Saturday morning. Small town banks are like that. I had a little business to take care of and ran into a friend of ours working behind the counter. We stopped to talk about life and family, and she mentioned how she and her husband were having a little difficulty with their truck. It was wrecked. And her husband needed it for his business. She was in very good spirits about it, however. I knew she was a strong Christian.

But God was clear in his message to me. I walked out of the bank thinking about it and called her on the way home. She seemed to appreciate the prayer.

It made me think, however. All this time, I’ve been thinking about how to encounter people I don’t know or am likely never to see again. But there’s this whole other group of people who I do know – some who are strong Christians; other who are not – who could benefit from God’s message and a timely prayer. I’m not going to abandon my efforts to reach the first group. But the second, when I think about it, seems like an even more challenging group to reach. I guess the main thing is to remain open to God’s calling and obey when he tells me to move.

Day 5: The delivery guy

It was close to the end of the day. The sun was hot, and he probably was ready to pack it in. But he was there, his truck parked in the middle of the street, loading up boxes of prepared food for a restaurant in Old Town. I stood there watching him disappear into the restaurant, pulling his dolly along behind him. I was waiting, filled with nervous energy.

I needed to be bold, I kept telling myself. Scripture instructs that. And my experience yesterday -- led by the Spirit, I believe -- confirmed it. Just tell them what you're up to, and then let them respond. The choice is theirs. But I'm backed by God. So I was bold, eventually. First I had to get over my fears and start walking.

When the delivery guy emerged from the restaurant, he wasted no time. He slid his ramp back into place and closed up the back of the truck. Then he started walking toward the door. I hesitated, seeing a group of people walking by on one side, and another guy coming up the street on the other. They were merely passersby, but they stopped me cold. I didn't necessarily want an audience. But they passed just in time, and I started moving -- jogging, actually. Just as he was reaching up for the door to pull himself up, I hollered -- "Hey!" And I ran up to him.

He had stepped up halfway to the cab when I arrived, looking down at me with a flat expression. "I've got a question for you," I said. "OK." He smiled. He was a guy of about 35 or 40, wearing shorts, a tattoo on one calf. "It's kind of a weird question." I guess I wanted to build some suspense. He smiled again, "OK."

"I'd like to pray for you." I said. "What?" "I'd like to pray for you. Right now." There was an inward groan, I'm almost sure. "Well," he said, "I don't have long. I've got to get going. It will have to be quick." So I prayed quick -- for him, for his safety, that he would feel God's love. Amen. Then he said, just as I was turning to go -- "Thanks friend." Those two words made a big difference.

Day 4: The television shop

I noticed the television repair shop while I was driving into work in the morning. It's a small shop, probably just a couple of employees, besides the owner. I had gotten to know it well over the last few years, a landmark on my daily commute, and I sometimes wondered how the guy made a living. Mainly, how'd they make the conversion to digital? But, frankly, I'd never even been inside.

God pointed it out to me in the morning. I felt him telling me there may be several places along this drive where perhaps I should stop and talk. So later in the day, on my way back from an appointment, I did. First, however, I sat in my car in the parking lot for five or 10 minutes, building up the courage to go inside. There were four cars there besides mine. What if they were all huddled around the front desk telling dirty jokes when I walked in and announced I was there to pray with the owner? I'd rather the owner would have just been there alone.

I eventually pushed those fears aside (or God did) and, with a prayer, I walked in. I loved God more than I loved myself, I remember thinking. A woman was sitting behind the front desk, and a younger guy was leaning against a table in a side room, watching a TV. A large flat-screen was on display in the small showroom. I stepped around it and asked whether the owner was in. She just looked at me and told me that she would be the one helping me. OK, I thought, get ready. I said I was there to pray for the owner -- or whomever was there who would like to be prayed for.

She seemed surprised by this. "Well," she said, "we all need prayer." But it seemed kind of like a half-hearted comment, like one of those you know you're supposed to say even though you're not entirely sure you mean it. But I agreed that we all need prayer and asked if she would like me to pray for her. She said she would. And then, to my surprise, she noted that these were very tough times. So I bowed my head and prayed.

I never saw her bow her head, or close her eyes, but perhaps she did. I prayed for her and the company, and that God would remind them that while this may be a recession, it had absolutely no bearing on His love for us. She was looking at me when I looked up again. I thanked her and walked out.

It occured to me later that maybe she thought I was nuts. Or maybe she thought I was scoping the place out for a robbery. But I hope I didn't look like a potential robber, or sound like one. So I just prayed later that the business would find huge success soon, filling its cash drawers to the point that there was no other explanation than that God had blessed them.

Scripture of the day: "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. So do not be ashamed to tesify about our Lord ... " -- 2 Timothy 1:7-8a.

Day 3: Two little ladies

I was getting frustrated. It was a busy day at the office. I was out and about very little, stuck instead at my computer working away. So as the day ended, I left the office and began walking around downtown. It was a busy night with people about, but I never really felt God open a door for me. Part of it was courage. Part of it was my words felt blocked. So I got in my car and began driving home

On the way home, I stopped at a gas station. Here it would be, I thought. I had some peace about it. I would spread God's word to someone here. I went inside, thinking mostly about the clerk and bought some M&Ms (for my wife, of course). But the clerk almost immediately was distracted by another customer. I walked out. Either I wasn't being bold enough, or God was blocking me.

So I made my last effort. It would have to work. I went to Wal-Mart. Almost immediately, I saw two little old ladies crossing the parking lot with a shopping cart. One of them had a walker. I parked and walked right up to them. It wasn't intimidating. They just seemed like two friendly women. One of them watched me approach, a quizzical look in her eye. I asked to pray for them. They were surprised, but they smiled and immediately agreed. I'd found believers. They bowed their heads. I was taken back by that. In doing this mission, I imagined this is how it could be -- coming together with someone who willingly acknowledges that he or she needs Christ.

It wasn't much of a prayer, just praying for a blessing on their lives for that day. I thanked them, telling them it was something I was trying to do every day and, after all, it was getting late. The woman with the walker seemed quite pleased and surprised by the gesture and asked who I was "connected to." I told her about the church. They both knew it by people who used to go there. Some had moved on. Some had died. They, themselves, went to a Baptist church in a nearby town.

We chatted for just a few minutes. One said we'd be nowhere without Him. The other said we'd meet again some day "upstairs." And so I left. It was a good feeling as I drove home. Right now, I feel emboldened to ask others: "Can I pray for you?" It's a simple, but demanding, question. Some will find it funny even to be asked, as I found on Day 1. But others -- I think others will appreciate it. I pray that God opens the door to whomever he wishes me to reach.

It was a good day.

Scripture of the day: "By their fruit you will recognize them." -- Matthew 7:16.

Day 2: A quiet receptionist

A new day. A different tact. I prayed this morning that God would place me in the middle of His activity in the world, that I could be part of what He was already doing that day. I decided that I would rely on Him to show me who I must reach. Already, I'd had in my mind this notion of interacting more deeply with the people I come into contact with every day, maybe those people that you see but never think much about. Construction workers, meter maids, custodians, receptionists.

I meet a lot of receptionists in the course of my work, and I rarely find myself actually talking to them. In fact, very few of them are memorable. There's one I can think of who always raves about her company's ice tea -- the best in town, she says. Every time I show up there -- "Would you like some sweet tea? It's the best in town." Of course, I decline. Not much of a tea-drinker. The secret to her success: She cleans the pot every day. Makes sense. But she's about the only one who stands out among the profession of receptionists. They're fine people. I'm just not tuned in.

So I met one today, and I talked to her. She was a quiet woman, about 50 years old. I got to my appointment early, so early in fact that neither of the people I was to meet with were on hand. That piece of information -- coupled perhaps by my standing in a lobby that had no reading material, leaving me just to stand there and look at her -- seemed to fluster her a little bit. So I struck up a conversation. About the weather, of course. It has been extremely hot here in August, but it rained the past two days and was cool. She was very pleased by this and said she wouldn't complain at all when winter came and it became bitterly cold.

You could tell she was one of those sweet, conscientious types who couldn't hurt a fly. We talked about how she'd worked there 13 years, before the company moved to its present location. She really liked working there, she said. They treated her very well. And she was believable.

Finally, the people arrived whom I was to meet with, and I was gone. But she stuck in my mind. During my time with them, I could feel what I believe was God's call. He opened the door for me further when I was left to show myself out. That gave me the moment alone that I needed. So I paused as I was leaving, leaned over the desk and told her I appreciated her help. "You're a good receptionist," I said. She smiled and thanked me. "I'm going to pray for you," I added. Again, she smiled and thanked me. And I was out the door, my adrenaline pumping.

It seems such a simple thing, just to pause and wish one well or offer an unsolicited prayer. And I wondered as I left, was that enough to count? It seemed a lot easier, and a lot more natural, than what I did yesterday. But what was the impact? I didn't linger long enough to see how she took my gesture. It could have been like the same chuckle, smile and dismissal I got yesterday. But I doubt it. I believe I was there for a reason, speaking for a reason, as God had called me. So I think it was enough. I think it counted. And it certainly wasn't something I would have done had God not placed this mission in front of me.

Scripture of the day: "Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." -- Exodus 4:12.

Day 1: A guy and his dog

This was the first day. Not sure exactly what I accomplished, but I trust it was something. I pulled into work just before 8 a.m. It was the first day the girls were riding the bus to school in a new school year, so I got to work a little late -- wanting to watch them hop on board, holding hands. As I was getting close to work, I prayed that God would open my eyes to whomever it was I was supposed to reach. Frankly, I wanted to get it over with so it wouldn't hang over my head all day.

In the parking lot at work, I paused. There was a guy sitting in a car in front of me. I could tell he was talking on the phone. Maybe that was him. Then another guy came walking down the sidewalk with his dog. This obviously was a poop walk. He let the dog have its head, sniffing trees, wanting to give it time to finish its morning duty. I remember the man clearly. He was wearing a green shirt and looked very modern. His glasses had those heavy rims and he had a goatee. He was 40, maybe. I figured him for a skeptic. Not sure why, other than the urbane look to him.



I told him I was a Christian -- that's when his eyes turned away -- and that I saw him walking down the street and felt God calling me to ask him if he needed any prayers. A smile crossed his face and he chuckled. I really can't describe the chuckle. It wasn't necessarily condescending. Maybe surprised. And then he said no. That's all he said. I said, "Are you sure? Because I'm willing to pray for you." He was backing off now, turning back toward his walk. No thanks, he said, and then he was gone.

I turned and literally pumped my fist as I headed back to my car. I'd done it. I'd obeyed. It was a huge moment of relief. I sat in my car for several minutes, letting the adreneline wear off, writing notes about what just happened. It didn't take long for doubt to creep in. I guess that's how Satan works. I wondered through the rest of the day whether I'd said the right things, whether I was too abrupt, whether I beat around the bush too much. He did seem to get what I was after, or at least a part of it, when I said I was a Christian. And that, I think, was the end of it for him. He wanted out. I looked away and then started moving away.


So I still wasn't sure how to change my message, and then I read again what God said to Moses, a man who was unsure about his own speaking ability. God said he would give him the words. So I believe God gave them to me, and that this man will be better off for what God said through me -- even though it didn't seem like much. I prayed during the day that God would use that seed in his life.

Scripture of the day: "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." -- Exodus 4:11-12.

365go!

This blog is about how God can use someone. I'm not sure how it will turn out. About a week ago, I felt God calling me to reach out to one person per day for a year, talking to them about Him in some way. I felt the calling was very broad. I didn't need to convert 365 people into Christians over the course of a year. I just needed to talk to them about Him. So that's what I'm doing. I started today. We'll see where this story will go.