Day 71: The blank face

She either didn't hear me the first time I asked or was just dumbfounded by the question. She was the clerk at McDonald's, and she had just handed me my Big Mac and was moving away when I stopped her long enough to ask my question. The ensuing pause was long enough -- and her expression was blank enough -- that I was compelled to ask, "Did you hear me?" She sort of snapped out of it then and leaned in toward me, and I asked again if I could pray for her. A sly smile crept to her face and she eyed me. "Why?" she asked. I answered, "Because I just like to pray for at least one person every day, and you're it." She reluctantly agreed. So leaning toward her, I said a quiet prayer for her and her work that night.

Her smile was still there as I walked away. 

I met this woman in New Orleans, where I flew today to do some work. Her McDonald's was right across the street from my hotel. Now you would think that when flying, and spending time in three airports and around thousands of people, that there would be ample opportunities to engage people. And I'm sure that today there were some of those that I completely missed. But the opportunities today weren't obvious ones. On my first flight to Dallas, the plane was about half empty and there were two empty seats next to me. The second flight to New Orleans was more full than that, probably three-quarters loaded, but I again sat next to an empty seat.

Not necessarily a bad thing. Who doesn't want that, in their heart of hearts? But with that potential opportunity gone, I was left with stopping someone at the airport, which I didn't do. Nor did I when I rented a car, either from the friendly desk clerk or the ruthlessly efficient attendant who gave me the keys and pointed out all the dents. Nor did I when I checked into the hotel. So to McDonald's I went.

Another thing I noticed today is the reluctance that hit me when I thought about reaching out. I'm pretty comfortable in Old Town and willing to stop almost anybody if the opportunity presents itself -- usually. Getting into another community altogether makes me think twice. Courage out here certainly is at a premium. I don't imagine the people elsewhere in the United States are different than Wichitans when it comes to their faith. But this is their turf, not mine, and for some reason I'm very mindful of that. It's weird, I know, but it is what it is.