Day 46: Squinting

I saw her slowly pushing a shopping cart to her car when I pulled into the Dillons parking lot. This would be quick, I figured. And it was. I walked up to her and asked if I could ask her a question. By then, she was loading groceries into the back of her SUV. She was a big woman, about 60. She didn't move quickly. And she never stopped what she was doing.

It was a beautiful day, and by this time, the sun was beginning to slant with the evening. "Can I pray for you?" I asked. She paused and squinted at me momentarily, and then went back to her loading. "No," she said resolutely. "I wouldn't be interested right now." I asked if she was sure. It would just take a few seconds. By this time, a second woman had walked up behind the car as well, also pushing a shopping cart. Her mother? But the first woman just told me no. She didn't want to be prayed for. She made it clear she didn't want me there. So I thanked her and left.

As I was leaving the parking lot, I glanced back toward their vehicle. It hadn't moved, and the older woman was looking out the passenger side window, watching me drive off. I prayed for them both as I drove home.

We had dinner with friends tonight, and we talked about this project. They remarked that they wouldn't know how to respond to such a question, if approached by a stranger on the street. I understand that. Until I started this, I don't know how I would have responded. So I don't want to judge someone who says no. But I also don't want to stop being bold. For too much of my life, I've been just the opposite. I never said a word, and that's not going to save anyone. So I'll be bold. People may reject me, and that's fine. But I know God can still work there. He can use that seed for good.

Day 45: 'Absolutely'

I remember that word clearly. I stopped by the woman, who was smoking a cigarette outside the Hotel at Old Town, and asked if I could pray for her. The response was immediate. "Absolutely." So I prayed for her to have a safe rest of the day and a good week. It was night by this time. Wednesday is a late day for us at the office. She was a short woman, about 45 years old. The thanked me after I'd finished praying. She said she was from Kansas City.

That concluded my search that day for someone to talk to. I already had passed up three good opportunities that day. In one, a young guy was just sitting in a van listening to music when I pulled into the parking stall next to him. The thought to talk to him was there, certainly, but I told myself perhaps I would do that if he was still there when I left my appointment. Indeed, he was still there. But I didn't talk to him.

Later, I walked right by a guy who was taking old cardboard boxes out of the back of a restaurant in Old Town. I did the same later when a guy walked by on the next street over. And I passed up a chance to talk to a restaurant worker who was sitting out back, smoking a cigarette. After 45 days, you'd think I would have more courage. But it seems so fleeting.

I felt better, though, after I heard that word -- "Absolutely." It makes me wonder about God's provision. I wonder if all these opportunities -- missed opportunities, I initially think -- are just preparation for the one God wants us eventually to take. I don't know what was different about my mindset when I approached her, but she seemed genuinely pleased that I took the effort. I know, however, that it was all God.

Day 44: A 20-cent prayer

I was eager to get out of a conversation with a co-worker. We were standing in front of the office, and I could see a guy walking slowly up the street. The man clearly had nowhere he really needed to go. He was pausing and looking at signs and advertisements on buildings. I couldn't tell whether he was an out-of-town type or not. He was dressed casually and was carrying some sort of a bag. Just as he reached our building, my co-worker finally went inside and I turned toward the man. And he turned toward me.

"Do you have two quarters?" he asked. I could only smile at the question. I was a little short, but I held up my hand anyway. "No, I don't," I said. "But I have two dimes." He seemed happy enough with that, and I motioned him over to the side of the street. I put the change in his hand and told him that I'd made myself a deal -- that if anybody ever asked me for money, I would seek to pray for him first. He just nodded, and we both bowed our heads.

I prayed for God's blessing and for him to find peace. He thanked me afterward. He said his name was Andre, and in response to my question, said he was from Kansas City and Wichita. He was friendly, but not talkative. We shook hands then, and he left. I saw him a little while later, still wandering slowly along the sidewalk. He saw me as I was getting into my car, and he waved.

Day 43: Two dimes

Today was a special day. But to give it some context, I have to tell you about my dimes. I've carried one with me every day during this project. It goes back to a time several months ago where I felt God pulling hard at me to help a woman whose car had stalled in the middle of a busy street downtown. I drove past her at first and then circled around the block to where she was stuck. At that point, I pulled a dime from my car, thinking I would stick it in the parking meter while I helped her. I took the dime, but I walked right past the meter.

I helped the woman out of the street -- and forgot about the dime. But the next day when I was getting dressed, it fell out of the pocket of the pants I had worn the day before. I never have money, so I stared at it there on the floor for a long time, wondering where it came from. And then I remembered. To me, it was God's reminder to me of what I'd done, and an encouragement to do more. So every day I carry a dime in my pocket, and as I search out people to talk to about God, I usually have it in my hand.

Today for some reason, I reached into my pocket and found two dimes. My thought then was, "Well, maybe I'll be talking to two people today." It was another one of those days where I worked hard in the office, only to find myself needing to go home, but also needing to witness in some way to somebody. So I started my route through Old Town, keeping my eyes open.

He was standing in front of the Hotel at Old Town -- fast becoming a familiar place to me -- and he was waiting for someone. It was clear he was a businessman. He was about 50 years old, balding and wearing sunglasses and business attire. I took the opportunity. "Sir," I said, "Can I ask you a question?" He said that I could. "Can I pray for you?" He took a little half step back and looked at me, both surprised and excited. "You're the second person who's asked me about Jesus!" he exclaimed. He proceeded to tell me that he was in Minnesota recently and a man had walked up and asked if he'd been "saved by Jesus Christ." The businessman said that he had been saved, but that he had strayed. So the man in Minnesota prayed for him.

And here I was. We both marveled there at it for a minute. I could tell this was a smart guy in front of me, just by the way he spoke and the confidence in his voice. He told me his uncles both were Baptist ministers, "so I always take time out for you guys," he said. I responded that God must be trying to get his attention. He didn't say anything to this, but he agreed to let me pray for him.

As we were standing there talking, and before I prayed, a younger man -- also in business wear -- walked up to us out of a nearby parking garage. I took him to be the businessman's escort in Wichita. And my new friend told him about this unusual turn of events. So when I prayed, I prayed for them both. Then we shook hands, and parted ways. The businessman was from Cincinnati. The younger man was from Kansas City.

As I walked away, I looked at the two dimes in my hand. Was it the two people? Or was it that I was second on the scene for this businessman? Maybe both. But what I do believe is that I was in the middle of God's activity today. I don't know what he has in store for that businessman, but I pray that he would wake up to the truth of God's calling and come back into a relationship with Him.

Day 42: The roustabout

It took a moment for me to figure out what exactly a roustabout was. But I now know -- and perhaps knew, back in my memory somewhere -- that it's a job in the oil fields. And this man whom I'd met had been most recently working in northern Alaska. His name was Jay, and I'd found him in the parking lot of a Walmart store. It was another one of those days, where I'd needed to complete my project for the day, and it was getting late.

I'd watched Jay pull into the parking lot with his camper. It really was just a camper-shell that went on the back of his pickup -- a beat-up old Dodge. And it was a piece of patch-work at that. The shell of the camper was aluminum, but it had a few pieces of insulation attached to it. He'd been in Alaska, after all. On the back were several American flags, a Wyoming license plate and a cross. So as I walked up to his truck, I figured I'd find a willing soul. And perhaps a bit of eccentricity.

I found both. Jay at first rolled down his window just a crack, probably figuring I was there to run him off or for some other not-so-good purpose. But when I told him I wanted to pray for him, he rolled his window down a bit farther. "I'm a Christian," he said. "You don't need to pray for me." And then he stopped almost mid-sentence and told me that, sure, I could pray for him and he would pray for me.

We had a long talk then. He was eager to discuss just about anything. He told me he'd been sick. He had a couple of spots on his lungs. Then he talked about his work as a welder in the oil fields. He really had wanted to get back to Indiana, and out of the cold climate of Alaska. He'd made good money there, $60 an hour for a company that was hard up for a welder, and he was their man. But his body was slowing down. He was almost 70, he explained. 

It was a rambling discussion, but he kept fingering a cross that was around his neck. And I noticed on the side of his truck a sticker that said, "clergy," that was faded by age and sun. There also were a couple of stickers indicating the U.S. Air Force.

At the end, he preferred I not pray for him in public. It really wasn't that public of a place, out in the desolate outskirts of a Walmart parking lot. But he said the Bible instructs us to do our praying behind closed doors. He showed me his own Bible, which was sitting right on top of a pile of stuff in the passenger seat. It was well-worn. I didn't argue with him. 

But I told him that later, I would pray for him and his health. He also wanted me to pray for his son, a doctor who wasn't saved. I gathered that the two weren't close. Jay, meanwhile, asked about me and my family. He said he would pray for us. After a bit, we shook hands and I left him. I went into Walmart then to gather up a few things, and when I emerged, his truck was nowhere to be seen.

Tonight, I prayed for both Jay and his son.

Day 41: The carny

It was raining as I was driving to our town’s Fall Festival, thinking about fulfilling my mission for the day. And as I drove, I thought how it would be harder while it was raining. And then another thought came – the carnival workers probably were standing around right now as most of their customers were getting out of the rain. That probably would be a good thing.

I was right on the latter. As I got close to the festivities, it started raining harder. And people were running every direction, but mostly to their cars to get out from under it. So I pulled into a spot as someone pulled out, and walked into the fair.

I immediately found what I was looking for, a carnival worker standing in a bit of shelter at the center of the ride he had been operating. It was called the Sizzler – one of those with several arms that attach to individual cars that spin as they rotate around in a circle. (I’d seen it earlier while we were with our family and called it the vomit machine. But I have no personal experience.)

I walked around the fenced area surrounding the ride and through the open gate. The worker didn’t mind me doing it. I walked right up to him, stepping up onto a little platform he was standing on. He was a clean-cut young guy, maybe 25. I asked if I could pray for him. He said yes. Actually it was a “yah.” This guy wasn’t from around here.

But he said I “absolutely” could pray for him. So I did. We talked a few minutes longer. Through his accent, he told me he originally was from South Africa but found his way here through a recruitment agency. Now he travels all over Kansas and Oklahoma working carnivals. But he had no reservations about my request. And he shook my hand later.

Day 40: 'That's awkward'

She was sitting in Old Town, clearly a student of some sort. She was maybe 20 years old and sitting against a building, probably waiting for someone. I stopped in front of her and asked if I could ask her a question. "OK," she said, clearly suspicious and moving her bag closer to her. "Can I pray for you?" She thought this was a very odd question. Her face said it all. "Why?" And then she added quickly: "I'm not homeless."

I thought that was funny. A good clarification, but not really necessary. "I don't think you are homeless," I said, as cheerfully as I could. "But I just like to pray for people, and I'd like to pray for you." She paused again at this. "Well, I guess that's OK," she said. So I told her I would pray for her right then, and she immediately reapplied the brakes. "No," she glanced around. "That's awkward." So I looked around, too. There wasn't a soul in sight. Not one person at that moment. And this was a Friday evening. "Look," I said, "I don't know you, and you don't know me. So why don't you just let me pray for you?" She hemmed and hawed then, and finally said, "No. I'm not comfortable with that."

This whole time she was very pleasant. But she was clearly put off guard, and she didn't quite know what to make of me. The request was very out of the blue for her. I think she knew I wasn't crazy -- at least I wasn't dressed like a crazy person and didn't talk like a crazy person. But she just couldn't bring herself to the point of letting someone pray for her in public. And she kept asking why I would want to do that for her.

So I pointed down the street. "OK, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to walk down that street and back to the place that I work. And while I'm doing that, I'll say a prayer for you. It will just be between me and God. But it will be about you. OK?" She reluctantly agreed, even though she had no choice. And so I thanked her and left, smiling all the way back to the office.

Day 39: “I’ve got work to do!”

It was raining. It wasn’t a downpour, just a light rain, but it added a wrinkle to the project. I like to talk to people outside. It just feels more private than in a building where others more easily can be part of the conversation. But rain doesn’t help things. People don’t generally walk around in the rain.

I was standing at the door at work, trying to decide what to do and where to go. I just didn’t want to wind up at Walmart that night. That’s when a truck drove down slowly down the street. It was some kind of delivery truck, but it was open – like one of those trucks that picks up junk people don’t want. (I researched the company later and found it was a sign business.) The truck stopped just up the street and backed up to the loading dock of a nearby building.

So I walked up to the driver. I had to wait a few seconds while he backed in. It took him a couple of tries to get the truck positioned just right. When he hopped out of the cab and started walking toward the loading dock, I stopped him and asked if I could ask him a question.

“What is it?” he said. He was a guy of about average height, but heavyset – maybe 45 years old. He was wearing work clothes and dirty ball cap. “Can I pray for you?” I asked. He didn’t think about it long. There was an impatience to him, like maybe he was running late. It was after 5 p.m. after all. “No,” he said, “I’ve got work to do!” Then he turned away from me and stepped toward the loading dock. He started to throw his leg up on the dock to hoist himself up, but then thought better of it. So he turned and started walking back around the truck.

I asked him then if he was sure. It would only take about 10 seconds to pray for him. That’s not a long time. He never fully addressed me to my face again. He just turned and walked around to the other side of his truck. “No thanks!” he said. And then he was gone.

I just walked back down the street, the rain still coming down gently. It was a quick brush-off, and I wondered later whether he even would remember talking to me. So I prayed that he would.

Day 38: A little bulldog

He crossed the street in front of me, walking his little bulldog. He was a younger guy, about 25 – probably just out of college, likely living in an apartment in Old Town. Just as he was rounding a corner to go a different direction, I stopped to ask him my question.

He thought about it for a minute, and then said I could pray for him. He had a smile on his face, and his dog came up to check me out. I prayed for him, but I noticed he didn’t bow his head or close his eyes. Instead, his face still held that smile, and chuckle almost. It wasn’t a “yippee-this-guy’s-praying-for-me smile.” There was something condescending about it.

When I finished, he pointed to the sky and then tapped his chest. Then he tugged on the leash and pointed to his dog, “And that goes for you, too,” he told it. I laughed a little at that, and then we parted ways.

He was trying to be cool and to take the situation in stride. I understand that. But it was that smile he had during my prayer that bothered me. I had to fight off the urge to be angry. That’s a prideful thing, and it’s not my job. My job is just to follow the Great Commission and love others. I feel I did that.

Any discouragement I had was wiped away moments later as I was driving home. It was as if God set the radio on a schedule for me. I heard a brief devotional by the evangelist Luis Palau, talking about how Jesus told us to take up our cross and follow him into the world, spreading the Good News. His final scripture was this: “I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes.” Romans 1:16

We just need to keep sharing it, no matter how tough it may be.

Day 37: Hanging out in Wichita

He was wearing a Harley-Davidson shirt. He had a ponytail. He was about 40, and was a little round. I knew I should talk to him, but I walked by him at first -- around the corner of the building and then back. By then he was no longer texting on his phone. He was just standing there, outside the Hotel at Old Town.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked. He said I could, and I asked if I could pray for him. The usual pause followed, this one perhaps a little longer than normal. I was about to clarify my question when his face brightened a little bit, and he said, “Sure!” It was as if he let go of his inhibitions and thought he’d play along with this game I must be playing.

So I prayed for him, that God would bless him and come near him. My new friend smiled and crossed himself when I was done. A Catholic. He thanked me, and I asked where he was from. Brooklyn, he said. We talked a few more seconds. He was just in town “to hang out.” Then he stuck out his hand, and I shook it.

When I walked away, two things came to my mind. I could imagine him sitting over a beer with his friends that night, saying “I had this weird experience today. Some guy just walked up to me on the street and prayed for me.” That, I was sure, would be followed by a commentary about the weird guy who pulled that stunt. That’s OK. But I trust – I have faith – that he won’t find God weird at all.

The second thought was this: This project now has reached people from six states – Kansas, Missouri, California, Arkansas, Georgia and New York.

Scripture: “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. Therefore, whenever we have the opportunity, we should do good to everyone – especially to those in the family of faith.” Galations 6:9-10 (NLT)

Day 36: Dozing

I was driving back from lunch today and really felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. It’s a very difficult thing to describe. I can’t even remember what I was thinking about beforehand, but there was just this sudden feeling. Of what? Comfort? Power? God’s presence? An urge to act?

I think it was all those things and more. So I parked as far away from work as I could and still be within walking distance. Then I kept my eyes open. I saw him almost immediately – a guy sitting on a bench, his legs extended out in front of him, just relaxing. He was in the shade on a hot day, and I figured him to be a worker from one of the nearby offices.

Although he was a block away, he was right in my path back to work. I would have to walk right by him. And at first I did. I don’t know if it was a moment of fear or what, but it didn’t last long. I turned around and stopped in front of him. He didn’t see me at first. His eyes were closed. So I waited.

He must have sensed me standing there there because his eyes slowly opened and he looked at me. He was probably 65, nearing the age of retirement, and I could just make out the word “Airbus” on his name tag. “Are you awake?” I asked, making sure he knew I was friendly. He smiled, “Yeah.”

I told him I had a question for him: “I was wondering if I could pray with you,” I said. He absorbed this, and then shook his head. “Well … no,” he said. And then he paused, thinking about this, and explained, “I was just taking a break.” I smiled and assured him I didn’t think there was any problem. I just wanted to offer him a prayer if he’d take one. He thought a second or two longer and declined a second time.

Before I left, however, I asked him why not. After all, that’s a response that really calls for an explanation. “Well,” he said, “I already belong to a church.” I shrugged and told him that was great. Then I said that as I walked back down the street that I would say a prayer for him anyway. He kind of smiled again at that, and I walked away, praying my way back to work. It was a friendly exchange. Nothing negative about it.

As I sit here, I believe strongly that I was led to that man by God. I don’t know why, but it was a good feeling to be obedient.

Day 35: A long walk

I was leaving church tonight wondering who I would pray for. I almost turned and headed back into town, figuring to find someone there. But instead I went the way I would have gone anyway, praying for God to provide someone obvious. He did.

The kid was walking along 85^th Street – a narrow, two-lane road with no sidewalks – and I slowed down as I drove past him. He was headed toward town. I was going away from it. He was just a teenage kid. He was wearing a ball cap and a t-shirt and shorts. He looked harmless as could be. So I turned around.

“Where you going?” I asked when I pulled up beside him. He just said he was going to town, and he willingly accepted my offer for a ride. I wonder how many people had asked him. And I really started wondering when he told me he had walked from town all the way to the highway. That’s more than 2 miles. And he was half way back already.

“I just needed to clear my head,” he said, indicating subtly that he didn’t really want to talk about it. I didn’t push him. He said his name was Will. He was 15. We chatted about school. He plays football, but he’s not playing this year. He also wrestles. He was a friendly kid, and whatever problems he may have been having didn’t get in the way of his courtesy.

He asked to be dropped off at an intersection in town, telling me his mother didn’t expect him home until 9 p.m. That was an hour and a half away. So I dropped him off. We shook hands, and I asked to pray for him. He said that would be fine. Before I started, I asked if he was a Christian, to which he said he was. It was a short prayer, asking God to draw near to him.

Will thanked me and left. The last I saw of him was his back as he walked down the street.

Day 34: Making a difference

Our neighbors lost their daughter several years ago to brain cancer. Since then, they’ve been on a mission to raise money to find a cure. They started the Kyrie Foundation. And they’ve been holding a series of events – an awareness walk, a golf tournament, scrap-booking events and art shows – in an effort to collect funds.

Their annual Twilight Walk was tonight at Bishop Carroll. It’s grown bigger every year they’ve had it. It’s amazing to me how much they do, and in such difficult circumstances. To lose a child would be about the worst thing I could imagine happening. But they’ve apparently taken that pain and applied it for something good, for something bigger than themselves. They continue to act – not just be paralyzed by grief.

At the end of the event, our family went over to talk and pray with our neighbors. We want God to bless them in their work.

“Those who sow in tears

    will reap with songs of joy.

He who goes out weeping,

    carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy,

    carrying sheaves with him.”

                           Psalm 126:5-6

Day 33: Pumping gas

He was pumping gas into a big Chevy pickup when I pulled up beside him. The size of his truck proved to be to my advantage, because he was stuck standing there for a long time. He was short guy, but stocky. He was wearing a blue shirt and jean shorts and had a big mustache. He might have been chewing tobacco.

After I got the pump running into my little Civic, I stepped around beside him and asked if I could ask him a question. “Can I say a prayer for you?” This guy was a little was different than most of the others. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. “Sure,” he said. It wasn’t a giddy, clap-your-hands affirmation. But it was solid. Definite. So we prayed there beside the gas pump. It was a Friday night, so I prayed for his safety in wherever he would be going that night, and that God would draw him close.

He thanked me, and we parted – me to my side of my pump and him to his. I liked his response. It was immediate and certain. I’d like to think he is strong in his faith, and kind. When I left, he was still pumping gas. It was a big truck.

Day 32: The step-back

Tonight, I walked the entire length of Douglas from Old Town to the Broadview Hotel near the river. It’s the heart of downtown Wichita, and it’s a pretty desolate place after 5 p.m. It wasn’t until the very end that I finally passed anyone. So there were maybe eight city blocks where I didn’t meet a single soul. Talk about the need for revitalization.

But I eventually did run into someone. I had left Douglas and was walking back along 1^st Street when a guy rounded the corner of a parking garage. He had a little smile on his face, like he’d just been telling jokes or like he’d been thinking of something funny. He was walking pretty fast, and so was I, so our meeting was a little sudden. But I stopped him.

“Can I pray for you?” We were separated by several yards because we had walked a bit past each other before we stopped, and I took a small step toward him when I asked my question. His reaction was sudden. He took a sudden step back and held out his hand a little in front of him, like you would if someone were about to throw something at you.

But he heard the question and he paused. A rather bewildered look came to his face. And then, with an accent I couldn’t place, he said, “Yes.” Now I was surprised. “Right now,” I said, just to make sure we were clear. “Yes,” he said again. So I prayed for him. He thanked me when I finished and said his name was Frank. I told him my name. Then we shook hands and parted.

It was kind of a strange meeting. But I had a lingering thought. I obviously don’t know Frank’s background, but I wondered whether he was a Christian, and whether the God I was praying to was the same one he worshipped. In any event, Frank was lifted up in prayer to the one true God. And Frank seemed pleased by the gesture.

After one month ...

This month has flown by. And I've felt God's hand in it the entire time. I want to make sure I at least chronicle what I'm learning along the way. So here's what I know so far:

• I'm no longer worried about overdosing on adreneline. Apparently there's no limit to how many of those rushes you can have in a month and still survive.
• Most people will say yes when you ask to pray for them. When they say no, they mean it.
• God opens doors. But we have to be paying attention to them to notice. And then we must have the courage to walk through them.
• I've walked right by a lot of people in my life.
• Pride and fear are huge obstacles to obedience.
• It takes just seconds out of a day to reach out to someone. That's a pretty small sacrifice to make.
• I still don't know the full impact of this work in the world. But I do know its impact on me. That's been huge. My relationship with God has grown deeper. My trust in him has strengthened.

Day 31: A fanny pack

He was dressed business casual. The only thing I didn’t get was the fanny pack. You don’t see one of those every day. But he agreed to let me pray for him. I’d seen him walking in Old Town, which has kind of become my mission field with this project. I think it’s a good one – a lot of people work there, a lot of people play there and a lot of people stay there when traveling.

I saw him as I was out walking after some big storms tonight. People at that time were just starting to venture out into the streets again, just as the light was fading from the sky. When I asked if I could pray for him, he paused only for a moment and then said I could. He asked me first, though, where I went to church. I told him.

It was kind of an odd question because, as I found out in talking to him, he was from Georgia. Apparently, he was in town on business. His shirt had the logo of TECT, which is an aviation company. It settled in my mind – at least a little bit -- the fanny pack.

He was very nice. I prayed for his safety and his work and that his relationship with God would only deepen. Then he shook my hand and we went opposite directions.

Day 30: Khaki shorts

He was an older guy who had the air of a businessman. He must have had the night off. Or perhaps he was retired. He was walking straight down the street like he had some place to go, maybe meeting friends for dinner. He was wearing khaki shorts and a white polo shirt and sandals. He had wrap-around black sunglasses and white hair.

As he walked he was looking rather intently at the buildings around him, and he generally avoided eye contact with me for the half-block we spent walking toward each other. I greeted him, and he walked on by at first. So I stopped and said, not too loudly, “Sir.” He stopped abruptly and leaned in to hear me ask my question. He didn’t seem even to look at me. Instead, he looked at the ground, considering my request. And then, with resolution, “No, I do that myself.” Without another word, he walked away.

It was a curt response. But as I walked back through Old Town, I thought it was a reasonable one. Anyone would hesitate if a stranger stopped him on the street and asked to pray for him. And it would be understandable to refuse. He may have been thinking: What if this guy’s some nutcase? And I decided that I shouldn’t judge his response, one way or the other. God knows what’s in his heart.

But this simple interaction – it lasted 15 seconds, maybe – spawned perhaps more questions than any other during this past 30 days. Something about his response made me think about the personal nature of prayer, like I’d crossed some boundary of privacy. Maybe I did. Some people like to keep their faith private.

But I guess I’m coming to understand that God doesn’t intend for our faith to be something we keep bottled up. We’re to live it – anywhere and everywhere we go. We should make it contagious. And we should build each other up every chance we get.

Another thought came to my mind. That question I’ve been asking – “May I pray for you?” – is a powerful one. Because at its heart is one that’s even more powerful in a very personal and fundamental way: “Do you believe?”

Scripture: “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10

Day 29: Two prayers

He was smoking in front of the Hotel at Old Town. I saw him from a block away, just pacing back and forth slowly. He was about 45 years old, wearing a Cox Communications shirt. I asked if I could pray for him. He took this in. I admitted it was a question out of the blue, not one you get every day. But he agreed almost immediately then.

First, however, he told me he was a Christian. And then he said he also would pray for me as well. Now, I was the one a bit off guard, but in a good way. So we prayed. I prayed for God’s blessing upon him, that he would be successful in his work and that he would come to know God deeper every day. Then it was his turn. It was at that point that I got a new perspective, learning what this is all about, what it’s like on the other side of this project – to be the person who’s being ministered to. It was a heartfelt prayer by someone I could tell was a mature Christian. He prayed for my efforts as I “spread God’s Word.” I couldn’t thank him enough. We shook hands and, frankly, almost hugged.

That was the first time, and I hope it’s not the last, that someone has turned the tables on me. It was absolutely more motivation to continue in this service.

Scripture: “For you have rescued me from death; you have kept my feet from slipping. So now I can walk in your presence, O God, in your life-giving light.” Psalm 56:13

Day 28: At the park

We had a kick-off tonight for our Kids Club program at church. It consisted of an old fashioned ice cream social, complete with three-legged races and watermelon rolls for the kids. I was speaking there with one of the women of our church. It was one of the many times people have commented to me about this project God has given me. She asked whether I knew about a guy named D.L. Moody. That name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. So she told me how he was a businessman more than 100 years ago who pledged to do much the same that I’m doing in talking to people every day about Jesus. He turned out to become a powerful evangelist. But in those daily connections with people, he helped people come to Christ – even people who initially rejected his message.

It was encouraging to me. It was encouraging to know someone else had done something like this and that the response can be a powerful one. So I was bold then. I’d not talked to anyone that day about God, and found myself looking time and again at another group of people at the park who were having a barbecue. It took some time to build my courage up, and then Mary gave me the five minute warning that we were leaving. That was my cue.

I walked over to them, and they greeted me. Many of their own group had left as well, but there still were five of them standing there. That’s a lot, I told myself as I approached. I asked if I could pray for them. They absorbed that for a few seconds and then one of the women piped up – “Sure!” The rest of them immediately agreed. And so I prayed for them. It seemed they genuinely appreciated it. We shook hands before I left.

It made it a good day, a fitting end to the day – and the weekend. This morning, a guest preacher spoke at our church about the new heart we have in Christ, a heart where goodness naturally flows. Not all of my interactions with people have felt natural during these past 28 days. But today’s did. And yesterday, I got some much-needed encouragement from my aunt and uncle and cousins. I’ve got a strong support system and greatly appreciate it.

Scripture: “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.” Proverbs 4:23

Day 27: ‘May I take your order, please?’

I was the only car in the McDonald’s drive-up lane. The kid who handed me the milkshake was about 18 and extraordinarily confused when I asked him my question. He pulled the headset away from his ear, to make sure he heard it right. “I’m sorry?” he said. I repeated: “Can I pray for you?” He paused, a stunned silence. “For what?” he asked finally. “I don’t know. I just like to pray for people,” I said. He still wasn’t convinced but half-heartedly agreed. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it. At that point, I told him not to worry, that it wouldn’t take long. He straightened up then. “No, I’ve got to take an order,” he said. Then he walked off. The sliding glass window quietly slid shut. I’m still not entirely convinced he was telling the truth, based on the looks of the drive-up line behind me as I drove away.

But I couldn’t help but laughing as I drove home. In reality, it’s not really funny, these reactions some people give. I guess it’s just so out of the blue, something so unusual, people don’t know how to process it. And some are incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of having a stranger pray for them. Mostly, it seems to me, they’re suspicious. I’m still processing this. Is it that Christians have done such a poor job of loving the world, alienating people? And there are some Christians (I’m certainly one) who are just clumsy in how they share the news. Some are pushy. Others have some unique views of the Bible. But there are a lot of people out there who are very reluctant to accept a prayer.

As an aside, my McDonald’s experience came after we’d had lunch that day at Pizza Hut. I was intent to pray for the waitress before we left. The service was a bit slow, and she seemed absent-minded. In any event, after our food was served, we never saw her again. Mary had to go to the front desk to get a box for the leftovers. And later, I had to do the same to track down our check. Our waitress still got a tip. But she doesn't know someone's praying for her.

Day 26: The Wal-Mart manager

It had been an incredibly frustrating day. I’m missed multiple opportunities and went home for the day without having done my job. So I went back out after the kids were in bed and found myself, with nowhere else to go, at Wal-Mart. The place of last resort.

This time I walked into the store and asked for the manager. I believe it was the assistant manager I’d found, and she asked if she could help me with something. “Well,” I said, “I just came here to pray for the manager of the store.” She laughed, “Pray for him?” I think she thought it was a joke, and I told her that it was just something I liked to do for people. She was very cooperative then, and told me the manager that night was Jason. He could be found in the electronics department.

Two guys were standing behind the counter when I got there. I asked if Jason was there. “You just missed him,” they said. Great, I thought. She’d radioed back to tell him some crazy guy was on his way to pray for him. I could almost picture a store manager hiding in the shoe department somewhere. But one of the guys behind the counter spotted him over the tops of the aisles and yelled for him to come over.

I met him half way. “They told me someone was coming back here,” he said, looking a little confused. I told him I wanted to pray for him. More confusion. I told him it was just something I liked to do for people. He reluctantly said that would be OK but asked if that meant I would just go home and pray for him or if I wanted to do it right there in the store. This was a guy who wanted all the details up front.

So I told him I wanted to pray for him now. This made him uneasy. He kind of glanced around and said he really wasn’t comfortable with me doing that in the store. So I started walking down an aisle, and he followed, continuing to worry. So I stopped. “Here,” I said, “I’m going to look at a product.” I can’t remember what we were standing in front of, but I just bowed my head and prayed. He bowed his head as well.

I prayed for Jason’s work and his family and the business. Yes, I prayed for the success of that Wal-Mart store. When I was done, he looked at me, relieved. “So that’s it,” he said. Yep. We talked a little while longer – small talk stuff, about how long he’d worked there and about the store, which is still pretty new. Then we shook hands and I left.

Day 25: Playing solitaire

In searching for people to talk to, I’ve had my eye out for those who are alone. I believe that someone who is alone when he’s approached with the Word will be more receptive to it. He’s free from need to impress his friends, and his mind perhaps is more clear to receive the message. But I’ve found sometimes that’s not always the case.

Today, I walked up to a man who was leaning against a wall in downtown Wichita. I could see him from a long ways off – two blocks or more – and at first thought he was standing next to someone. But as I drew closer, I could see he was by himself. He appeared to be working on his cell phone. It was after 6 p.m., and the streets were quiet. There weren’t many people around. I walked up to him and stopped. I could see then he wasn’t working on a phone. Instead, it was some sort of game device.

“It’s just solitaire,” he said, addressing a question I hadn’t asked. He went back to playing the game, and I told him I wanted to pray for him. He looked at me and then looked away. “No,” he said. At this, I asked the all-important follow-up question, something I’d not done before. “Why not?” He looked straight at me and shook his head, nothing friendly in his tone. “I don’t do that kind of stuff,” he said, tapping his chest. “If I do my religion, I do it myself.” He tapped his chest again. And then he turned away.

I said a prayer for him as I walked back the way I had come. When I looked back, I saw he had resumed playing his game. Solitaire, indeed.

Day 24: A cab driver

I was walking down the street after a long day in the office, thinking about where God would lead me. It was another busy day, and for some reason I was discouraged. I just wanted to go home. And I wondered why all this had to be so hard, why I had to do all this careful looking around. I prayed as I walked that God would provide an opportunity for me, something obvious, something that I didn’t have to think about. Just something right there in front of me.

Doubt crept in then. God won’t, it said: God doesn’t make things easy; he won’t just provide you with a clear opportunity; that’s not how he works; he wants this to be confusing. It was the first time on this project that I’d felt that frustrating, discouraging thought. And I didn’t really know what to do with it.

Then I rounded the corner and saw the cab. It was right there in front of a hotel, the driver looking like he had nowhere to go. To anyone else, this would have been nothing special. But I’d been thinking for two weeks about cab drivers – ever since I walked by one and didn’t say a word. I’d been thinking since then I should have tapped on the window and prayed for the guy. So I told myself I’d do that if the opportunity ever came again.

Tonight it did. And I didn’t even have to tap on the window. It was rolled down already. The driver was working on his cell phone when I crossed the street to him. He was a large man, about 50. As usual, he was a bit suspicious at the question. But he agreed. I asked if he was a Christian. He said he was. I prayed for him there in the street, cars driving by us. He smiled afterward, and I walked away.

When I got back to the office, there was a Facebook message from my uncle, who said he was praying for me for courage. It had been posted six minutes earlier – right at the moment of my meeting. And so, that’s how God works. Things in this life may not be easy – even those tasks that come directly from Him – but He’s always there with us, showing us along the way, not leaving us to flounder around. And he puts people around us to build us up, to encourage us to continue on. I confessed my doubt to God and thanked him for his provision.

I thanked my uncle, too.


Scripture: "If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all." -- Isaiah 7:9b

Day 23: A cherry limeade

I learned something today. Actually two somethings. The first is that parents should pray for their children. And, perhaps just as importantly, they should make sure their children know they’re praying for them.

A guy named Polo taught me that. I had again spent the day in the office, and so I left intent on finding someone to talk to. I wound up at Sonic of all places. I bought a cherry limeade to take home to Mary. The car hop was a kid about 17 years old. His name badge said “Polo” – like the shirt, he explained. He handed me the drink and asked if I needed anything else. “Yes,” I said, “can I ask you a weird question?” He smiled and said I could. The smile caught my attention – it was from ear to ear – and he said he got a lot of weird questions in his job. So I asked if anyone had prayed for him that day. “No, not today,” he said. And then he stopped and changed his answer -- “Well, my mother did.” That sounded good to me. “She prayed for you today?” I asked. “She prays for me every day,” he said.

I thought that was a great response. He also let me pray for him. When I finished, he gave me another big smile and then stuck out his hand to shake mine. I thought it was a good lesson. He knew his mother was praying for him every day. That’s a comforting feeling, knowing someone always is going to God on your behalf, asking for a blessing for you or for protection or for guidance. But parents should make sure their children know it. I want to make sure my kids know.

The second lesson I learned today was this: Mary is liking this project more and more. The cherry limeade was nice. Yesterday, I bought her gum at the dollar store. And a couple of weeks ago, I bought her M&Ms while looking for someone to pray for. She’s made another suggestion already: Pray for someone who’s selling chocolate cake.

Only if God opens the door.

Scripture of the day: “Remember this – a farmer who plants only a few seeds will get a small crop. But the one who plants generously will get a generous crop. You must each decide in your heart how much to give.” – 2 Corinthians 9:6-7a.

Day 22: Laboring on Labor Day

We were coming back from buying doughnuts this morning (happy birthday, Isabella!) when I saw the car in the parking lot of the Dollar General. A single car, probably an employee, I thought. So they were open on Labor Day, too. I drove by at first and then, thinking better of it, turned around.

He didn’t seem happy to be there. Who would on a day like this? I bought gum for Mary. She always needs more gum. And I asked him if he’d been busy today. He told me he opened the store at 8. It was about 8:10. So no, he hadn’t been busy. I asked him how long he’d been working there. Three months, he said. (The store opened about three months ago.)

So I made no headway with small talk. And by this time, he’d handed me my receipt. So I asked him if I could pray for him. There was that pause – the same one everyone has at that question, out of the blue. Sure, he said, that would be nice. His demeanor seemed to change ever so slightly. But it was noticeable. He was curious at least. So I prayed for him. He smiled and thanked me as I left.

Day 21: Knowing the story

I’d never really talked seriously about God to my little brother in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. I’ve known him for nearly four years. I see him regularly. He knows our family very well. He’s prayed with us at meal times. He’s gone to VBS – twice. And I’ve always known that he knows almost nothing about God.


So I asked him today to talk to me about God as we were driving. He’s 13 and comes from a very non-typical household. He also has trouble with his attention span – and was playing with the radio in the car -- so I repeatedly had to refocus the conversation. Basically, he recounted the story of Christ’s death. I’d heard him tell part of this story before. He’d seen it on a movie one time – about how they beat Jesus up, made him carry a cross, and then nailed him to it (here my little brother pointed to the center of each palm and then to his feet). Then he told me how they put the cross up on the side of a cliff next to another guy, and Jesus died. There was a woman there, he said. He thought she was Jesus’ mother. Then they put Jesus’ body in the ground and rolled a big rock in front of it. But when the woman went to look for him later, he wasn’t there. And then my little brother stopped talking.

Well, I said, where was Jesus? He just shrugged: “I don’t know. He was just gone.” What a sad answer! So I told him that Jesus didn’t stay dead, that he rose again and walked out of that tomb. I told him that Jesus died on that cross so we could live with him in heaven. But first we have to accept Jesus, to believe in him. I told my little brother he would have to make a decision one day about whether or not he believed in Jesus.

I asked whether he understood. He nodded. And then he shrugged and went back to fiddling with the radio.

Day 20: The porn shop

Two weeks ago, I was driving home from my sister's house. It's maybe a 10-mile drive, mostly on city streets. But it's not crowded, and I was thinking to myself at the time that I kind of liked the drive -- all but a small portion of it. It was a weird thought, because there's not much variation in what you see on that particular stretch of road, just a lot of homes and a few older shopping centers. But my mind had pinpointed a roughly one-mile stretch of that drive that I just didn't care for. It was a thought that passed quickly, and I just went back to my driving and thinking about the other important stuff of the day. But the thought came back when I hit that spot in the road. That's when I noticed the adult video store.
It has been there for years, tucked in a little strip center, not really catching any notice from anyone. Except, I suppose, from the people who go in there. That's when I knew I would have to come back. Today, I did. You have to pass it on the way to a hardware store that I frequent. And before I even started on the trip, I knew I had to go in there. My adrenaline was pumping the entire drive, a really nerve-wracking sensation. I waited in the parking lot for a couple of minutes.

Then a man came out carrying a sack. He went around to his trunk and started moving stuff around back there. He was about 50, with short hair, dressed like an ordinary guy, on an ordinary Saturday, on an ordinary errand. He was slamming the trunk shut when I walked up to him. We exchanged a hello, and I asked if I could ask him a question. He said I could. "Can I pray for you?" His response was immediate. "No." I paused a moment then, and nothing else came to my mind to say. "Well," I said, "thanks for answering me." He smiled then and shrugged, "Straight question, and a straight response." Indeed.

Then I went into the store. I wondered when I got there if it was the same kind of store that I'd always thought it to be. There was a Da Vinci Code poster on the front window. It's pure fiction, but it's not porn. However, the door urged -- with a "please" -- that people should be 18 to enter. So when I walked inside, I stopped just inside the door and looked around. It took about two seconds to see that, yes, this was exactly the kind of store I knew it to be.

So I turned to the clerk, who was staring at a computer. I stood there for a few seconds, waiting for him slowly to recognize me. Then I asked if the owner was in. "No," he said, standing up slowly and looking me in the eye. He was a younger guy, about 35, with a shaved head and a short beard. He wore a flat expression. "What do you want?" he said. I sensed no friendliness in his tone. "I wanted to pray for the owner," I said, and then without hesitating, "Can I pray for you?" He considered this for just a moment. He'd been chewing tobacco, and I watched as he spit a darkened round of it into a plastic bottle. "No," he replied. I paused again, and like the first time, nothing else came to my mind to say. So I thanked him and left.

I prayed for both of those men as I drove away.

Those were the quickest two "no's" I've gotten. Some people might say I wasted my time there. Or that I'm nuts -- some crazed Christian, a would-be evangelist. I worry about that sometimes. But I know the call God laid on my heart, to go in there, a place of sin, and take the Holy Spirit with me. Who knows when the last time someone did that. And who knows what that first guy might think about tonight when he takes that video out of its box. And who knows what that clerk will think about the rest of the day, when he leaves that place and drives by the church that's not a block away. God works through people, and I pray that today, he worked through me.

Day 19: My grandmother … plus one

I visited my grandmother today -- on orders from my mother. This is a hard time for our family, and grandma had tears in her eyes when she came to the door. Two weeks ago, my aunt – her daughter – was killed in a motorcycle accident.

So it was a time of talking, of finding ways to make her smile. She said she was convinced that my aunt and my grandfather, who died several years ago, were together again in heaven. And grandma says she’s holding onto the good memories. But it still is hard, and tears seemed to come at barely the thought of it. So we prayed together for comfort.

That was in the morning. Hours later, across town, I was sitting across the table from my new case manager in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. She was the mother of five mostly grown children, and was just returning to the workforce after spending decades as a stay-at-home mom. It took her nine years to earn her college degree. But while she said she had been nervous about it, she had relatively little trouble finding a job. She was thankful for that.

As we were wrapping up our meeting, I posed my question to her. She immediately agreed, telling me she was a Christian. I had figured that already. So we prayed about this new challenge in her life. “Thank you. I’m going to need that today,” she said as we parted ways.

It was reinforced to me that life doesn’t stop. There’s always something else. And we may hurt for a while, but God is calling us to more. He gives us comfort, heals our wounds and sends us out to serve others.

Scripture of the day: “’Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.’ The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” -- Psalm 46:10-11. 

Day 18: Talking tobacco

I’d seen him a lot during the past few weeks, walking slowly up and down the street in front of our office, scouring the ground for cigarettes. Partially smoked ones. I asked him about his effort this morning while I was walking into work.

The goal, he told me, was to clip off the portion that still had tobacco in it, and use that to roll his own cigarettes. He was diligent about it, always patient, picking the butts out from between the bricks of the street. He only needed enough tobacco to make four cigarettes per day. Once he found enough, he would go home. In particular, he was looking for cigarettes used by “puffers,” whom he described as people who only gently smoke their cigarettes and don’t pull all the nicotine out of them before throwing them into the street.

His name was Bill. He looked like an ordinary guy, about 50 years old, and friendly. He was out of work. “There aren’t any jobs,” he said. He once told a woman he’d work for her and all she had to pay him was enough to buy his cigarettes and coffee. But she said even that was too much. And so he appeared content in his morning search for cigarettes.

He wore a necklace with a cross on it. And he talked about how people sometimes worried about him. But there was nothing to worry about. We’re all much the same, he says. Everyone has a dark side that they know about but refuse to tell others. He told me I had one, too. I couldn’t disagree. And he said too many people are afraid to talk to each other, and so, essentially, hate grows from that.

When I asked if I could pray for him, he immediately agreed. I prayed that he would find what he was looking for and that God would come close to him. We shook hands then and went our separate ways.

Day 17: Waiting for a ride

For some reason, I found myself in front of the hospital. Maybe it was just on my brain because my family has spent so much time in hospitals during the past couple of weeks. Or maybe it was because that's where  a lot of hurting people are. But there I was, looking to see where God would lead me.


I parked just outside the emergency room. I saw the chaplain's parking spot was empty when I pulled into the lot, but I didn't park there. I passed several people walking in, and saw a row of people through the window of the emergency room. They were waiting to have their emergencies taken care of. And then I was into the main lobby. 


There was a security guard there, and a receptionist having a relatively heated discussion on the phone. And every now and then a nurse would walk by. After a moment, I saw an older woman standing in the big revolving door, apparently waiting for a ride. She was holding a bag that contained shoes and some other stuff. 


I asked if I could pray for her. She thought about this for a moment. "I don't know whether I need prayer or not," she said. I told her I'd be happy to pray if she'd just give me the OK. She paused a moment longer, and then, "Well, I guess you can." So I prayed for her. She thanked me, and I left.


But it would be a lie to say today was a total success. I passed up -- physically just walked on by -- what I felt was a good opportunity to talk to someone downtown earlier in the day. The guy was standing in front of an old hotel. He wasn't doing much, just looking up at the building. He was probably a visitor from out of town who was staying there. I immediately felt bad as I was walking away. I'm convicted that travelers need prayer. They're away from their families and their homes and the things that hold them accountable.


So I'm praying for more courage.


Scripture of the day: "And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again." -- 2 Corinthians 5:15