I was thinking today about being bold. Was I willing to talk to anyone -- anyone -- whom I believe God is pointing me to? I knew the answer was no. There still was too much fear in some cases. But that's the ultimate test of someone who wants to witness wholeheartedly for God. You have to be willing to move no matter where God tells you to go.
I'm not there yet. So that was on my mind when I entered Spangles. It was a late night at work, and Mary assured me there was no food in the house. There were a bunch of large pickup trucks in the parking lot, and I thought about praying for farmers or hunters or other large, burly, tobacco-chewing and cowboy hat-wearing guys. Not just one guy. But several of them -- at once. I was thinking about just approaching a group of them, not knowing what their response would be.
That's not what I did. Instead, the woman behind the counter handed me my food. I was No. 127. And I stopped her. "I know you're busy," I said, "but can I pray for you?" She smiled and said yes.
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