I was standing in line at a store that will go unnamed (not Walmart, I promise), where I had picked up some things for Mary. It was a long line, a busy store. The clerk was a young guy, with a scraggly beard and glasses.
He was friendly, and we chatted for a few moments. And then as he handed me my receipt, I asked if I could pray for him. He said sure.
"Right now? Real quick," I asked. His face changed then, and he paused. The line was long, it was three days to Christmas, a guy who looked like his boss was two registers down, and the only assurance the clerk had was me and my own scraggly face. His decision was made: "That would make me uncomfortable," he said.
So I told him I would pray for him later, and I left. I did pray for him after I reached my car.
No comments:
Post a Comment