Day 169: Cold wind, bald head

The guy was short. Like 5-feet-tall short. He was filling up a white Chevy Suburban, and I stuck my head around the gas pump, a bitterly cold wind blowing all around us, and asked him my question. His hood kept blowing back off his head while he waited, exposing his bald head.

"Absolutely. You go right on ahead," he told me, not hesitating at all. So I prayed there, loudly, over the sound of the wind. "Thank you," he said, as he finished filling up with gas. We chatted for a cold moment. He said he wasn't going far, just down the street to his home. And then as he twisted his gas cap back onto his car, he said, "Thanks for doing that. We can't have too much of that." I agreed.

Day 168: A broken hip

Mary's grandfather seemed to be doing much better today. He seemed more comfortable in his hospital bed, and his breathing was better. We got a chance to talk to him this time, and he told us about his faith -- something that blessed us in a huge way. We also got a chance to pray for him, asking God for healing.

It was a good visit, an answer to prayers and not without a little humor (you'll have to ask us about it sometime).

Day 167: A hospital visit

We were at Wesley Hospital today to visit Mary's grandfather, who had fallen and broken his hip. We will continue to pray for him. On the way out, I stopped a guy who was on his way in. He was probably 25 years old, wearing a ball cap and boots -- looking like he was straight in from the farm.

He didn't like my question. He kind of sighed and chuckled and clearly had no idea what to say. He patted me on the shoulder, mumbled something that I couldn't understand and then walked away. Figuring that for a "no," I left.

Day 166: Infiniti

I remember the car he was driving, an Infiniti. He was about 60 years old, a tall intellectual-looking guy. He had long hair -- the kind that made you think it grew out in the 70s and stayed that way, but now is back in style. He was wearing jeans and boots. I took him to be an entrepreneur of some kind, maybe a real estate developer.

He thought about my question for a moment. There was nothing unfriendly about him. And then his eyes lit up, like it dawned on him what a great idea that was. "I would really like that," he said after I explained my project. So I prayed for him. He thanked me, shaking my hand and looking me in the eye. As I started to walk away, he said, "That was really good."

Day 165: Jenga

Game night at the church is tomorrow. And we, apparently, needed one more game. So I was standing in line, holding Jenga in that orange cylinder that it comes in. The clerk was about 60 years old, a short woman who was friendly. After she handed me my receipt, I leaned in to ask her my question.

She broke out into a huge smile and just laughed. I think she thought I was joking. But when I said I wanted to pray for her on the spot, she glanced at the people coming along in the line after me, and he hesitated. But I didn't hesitate. I just bowed by head and prayed for her. And she listened.

"You have a good night," she said after I'd finished.

Day 164: Camo

A big truck. A guy in a camo jacket. A moment of hesitation. Then my question. He looked and then stopped, smiling at me. "Yeah," he said, laughing a little like that was a stupid question. But I couldn't pray for him right then, he said, putting a foot up into his truck. "I've got kids at home to get to," he said. So I told him I would pray for him later. He thanked me and drove off. Then I filled up with gas.

Day 163: Glasses

That's what I remember most as the guy stared back at me with puzzled eyes, through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He was a short guy, a little pudgy, filling up his car with gas. A woman was sitting in the passenger's seat, patiently waiting.

I didn't really need gas, but I pulled in and asked him my question. He really didn't like it. His face said that much. "Well ... ," he said, kind of trailing off, unable to muster an actual answer. So I told him about my project. He kind of looked around a little and then, very hesitatingly, said OK. So I prayed.

When I looked up, he still was staring at me through those glasses. "Thanks!" I said. He looked at the pump, where he pulled his receipt. "Yeah, OK," he said. And then he left.

Day 162: From Iowa

He was standing in front of the Hotel at Old Town, looking like he was waiting for someone. He was dressed in a hoodie and athletic pants, and part of me thought he was a coach or something. So as I walked by, I asked him my question. It felt good. I hadn't walked through Old Town in a while for this project.

He leaned toward me to make sure he heard me right. "Pray for me?" he said, and then, "Absolutely." No hesitation at all. So I prayed for him -- telling God that I didn't know this man or whether he was a believer, but that God would bless him that night. Then I stuck out my hand to shake his, and he thanked me. He said he was from Iowa. He was still standing there waiting as I walked away.

Day 161: Not cheering

It was about 30 minutes before the start of the games today, and we didn't talk about the Kansas City Chiefs jacket he was wearing.

The guy was about 60, filling up an older red car. He wasn't much interested in what I had to say. When I asked if I could pray for him, he didn't give me much eye contact. "You better hurry up. It's cold," he said. So I prayed. And then he kind of shrugged as he walked away.

Day 160: Smiling

We went to the movies -- quite exciting for us, considering it had been only about a month since the last time. I went back out to the car to make sure I locked it (and this is something normal for me) and found myself walking behind a guy wearing a St. Louis Cardinals jacket. It was one of those letter jackets with all the patches on the back telling of championships. He also was wearing a Cardinals hat.

I stepped up the pace and was walking beside him. Then I asked him my question. A kind of cynical look came across his face, and a little half smile. "Well sure," he said as he kept walking. I asked if I could pray for him right there. He looked straight ahead then, picking up his own pace. "I'm getting in my car," he said. "You can pray for me while I'm driving away."

I stopped then, reaching our own van, and told him (actually I told the back of that Cardinals jacket) that I would indeed do that. Then I walked back inside and stood in line with Mary. She looked at me, "Why are you smiling?" she asked. I hadn't realized until then that I was.

Day 159: Pepsi Co.

He was driving a beat-up little car with a donut for the front wheel. There was a kid in the back seat, waiting patiently. I hopped out of my car and began filling up with gas, and I asked him my question. He said sure almost immediately. He was a young guy, wearing a Pepsi stocking cap. He stepped toward me with a smile on his face. It was kind of a curious look, like he was wondering whether I really was going to pray for him.

So I did. After the "amen," he asked me if I was a Christian. Kind of a silly question, so I said yes and asked him the same. "I'm Catholic," he said. I told him that was Christian enough for me, and we talked a little bit. He works for Pepsi. He's doing ride-alongs now, but soon he'll be behind the wheel in his own truck.

We talked a moment longer, and then he left. "Nice talking to you," he said.

Day 158: On the job

I was standing in the bread aisle, admiring the vast array of Sara Lee loaves, wondering if I could find any priced under $1.50. I couldn't. Behind me, a guy was stocking shelves. So I turned around and asked him my question.

He's from another country -- his accent said as much. But he shook his head in response, a little sadly even. "I'm at work," he said. "I would have loved for you to have prayed for me." We went back and forth on that last comment before I could understand it under his thick accent. He strongly emphasized the word "loved."

Well, I don't think being at work is a good excuse not to get a prayer. So I turned toward the shelf he was standing at and said, "Keep working." Then I bowed my head and prayed. He bowed his head as well. He looked at me later with a huge smile. "God bless," he said.

Day 157: A driving cap

He looked very professorial, with his graying beard and his driving cap. We were standing at a gas station while the sleet was falling gently around us. It was cold, but not horrible. I asked him my question.

His guard was up. He asked me the normal questions about why I would want to pray for him, and I told him about my plan to pray for one person every day. He gradually agreed to let me -- after some more hesitation about whether I should pray for him right there on the spot. "Ten seconds. I promise," I said.

Eventually, I did pray for him right there. True to my word, it took about 10 seconds, praying for his safety on a slick night. He seemed to remember his faith then. "God bless," he said, holding out his hand to shake mine. He told me his name was John. We shook hands, and then he got into his Chrysler and left.

Day 156: A new coat

I was kind of in a hurry. Mary had a PTO meeting to get to, and I was charged with watching the kids. So I did a stop-and-go prayer at the gas station. I found an older gentleman who was filling up his car. I didn't even turn mine off as I got out to walk up to him. He had what looked like a name badge hanging from his jacket. But as I got closer, I noticed it looked more like a tag. A new coat, perhaps?

Anyway, I figured by one look at him -- his shock of white hair and his wise face -- that he would say no. I don't know why I get those preconceptions sometimes, but this one was wrong. He looked at me, and he said yes. "I pray for myself quite often," he said, "So why not?" So I prayed for him, that God would bless him. He thanked me, and I turned to go.

Before I got in my car, I thought I heard him say something. When I turned around, he was looking at me, but whatever he had said -- if he said something at all -- was gone. So I left.

Day 155: A walking prayer

He was headed out the door right in front of me, leaving Leeker's as it was getting dark and as the people just off work were hurrying around in their last-minute errands of the night. The guy was about 50 years old, in one hand carrying a case of Mountain Dew and in the other a bag of oranges. There were other things in that bag, but the oranges were prevalent.

I was about two paces behind him, but he was headed in the same direction I was, so I gained on him and asked him my question. He just glanced at me, not much expression there, and said, "Yeah." So I prayed. He didn't stop walking and neither did I. It was done before we reached his pickup truck. He thanked me then -- and I felt he was genuine -- and I walked on my toward my car.

Day 154: 'Alrighty then'

She wasn't happy with the question. That much was for sure. She wasn't overly talkative to begin with, but when when I asked her there in the check-out lane at Leeker's if I could pray for her, her demeanor was even less personable.

She was suspicious, then a little condescending, in telling me that yes, indeed, I could pray for her if I really wanted to. I'd seen her many times before there. She was probably 25 years old and usually friendly enough. But right then, her eyes told the story. She just wanted me to take my receipt and go away. But as I reached for my box of doughnuts and gallon of milk, I bowed my head and prayed for her, that she would be blessed on a Sunday of work.

Afterward, she was curt. "Alrighty then," she said. It was a cool sort of curt, like I was the idiot and she was just tolerating me. She wouldn't make eye contact as she wished me a good day. I wished her the same. And as I walked out of the store, it was one of those rare moments where I felt for certain that someone was totally missing it.

After five months ...

After five months, I've come to find out that this project has been part blessing and part burden. I've felt myself incredibly fortunate to be able to take part in something I believe God is doing both in me and in the lives of others. I rarely leave an encounter with someone without feeling a little more upbeat and a little more in touch with God through the working of the Holy Spirit.

But, man, I've also felt the burden. Like when it comes to be 9 p.m. -- after a long day at work, after coming home to a busy household, after eating dinner, after playing a little with the kids, after the whirlwind that is bedtime for them, and after collapsing on the couch next to Mary. That's when I find myself getting back up again and putting on my coat and walking out the door, looking for someone to pray for. In those moments, I feel really down.

I thank God that I always return home again happier than when I left.

Day 153: The coach

He was driving a red pickup, his wife in the passenger's seat as he filled up with gas. He was just standing like a statue in his black leather jacket, watching the numbers add up. I asked him my question, and he had a questioning look on his face. "About what?" he asked. He was somewhere in his 30s, with a buzz-cut head. There was friendliness in his tone.

I told him how I liked to pray for one person every day. He was agreeable to it. "I've got time," he said. So I prayed for him, asking God to bless him in whatever he was doing that night. He said he was just getting ready to go grocery shopping with his wife.

He thanked me, and then he asked me where I was from. He said he was from a small town nearby, and had come into Wichita to see a movie. In talking, I discovered he was the football coach in his town. His team finished the year 6-3, and he had expected that. He expected success next year, too.

Obviously, the conversation turned to the sorry state of the Valley Center football program. I'm not sure when VC won its last game, and he agreed things are grim. But he said he knew the last coach and the current one, and both are good coaches. "You just don't have much to work with," he said. That's not good.

Day 152: 30 seconds

I came walking out of Walmart in the late evening, a bag in my hand, ready to head home. It was chilly but not horribly cold like it has been. A young guy was walking toward me, probably in college. It was a split second decision, but I stopped him to ask my question.

He paused in the typical way people do when asked that question, and then he said yes. It was yes with a bit of eagerness. So I prayed for him there, just outside the front doors of Walmart. A moment later I was stepping away. I thanked him, and he, with a big smile on his face, told me he really appreciated that.

It took about 30 seconds. But it made me feel better about how I used this day.

Day 151: A white van

He was standing next to a white van, filling it up with gas. I figured it for a work van. And this was a guy -- probably 25 years old, wearing a Jayhawks ball cap -- who wanted nothing to do with me. He couldn't at first figure out whether I was serious.

"Come on, man," he said when I first asked my question, turning back toward his van and away from me. It was a comment of annoyance, like "Are you kidding me?" But I still stood there, and his eyes eventually came back. "You can do whatever you want," he said finally. It was clear though that he just wanted me out of his face. But I took his words as an invitation, unwilling though it may have been, and I prayed for him.

Afterward, I apologized for being weird. He kind of smiled then, and I left.

Day 150: Really cold

I'd driven by the liquor store thousands of times, since I was first able to drive. But I'd never been inside. So tonight, I walked in. It was about 9:45 p.m.. It had to be about closing time. The guy behind the counter was tall and skinny and about 45 years old. The rest of the store was empty and quiet. Outside, it was bitterly cold, close to zero.

I asked my question. His was a look of true discomfort. He asked me why I wanted to pray for him, and I told him about my mission. Then he said, "I'm good." That translates that he didn't need a prayer.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. For tonight, I'm fine."

I couldn't leave it at that, especially after last night, so I asked: "Are you a believer?"

He said he was, and I said that was good enough for me. But boy, I'd made him very uncomfortable in his own store. I didn't feel badly about this, however. After all, I was uncomfortable, too. I guess that's how God wants us to be sometimes.

But I did pray for him on my way home.

Day 149: A dirty windshield

It was freezing. Cold. Particles of ice flew up from car tires and sprinkled windshields essentially with dirt. Wiper blades easily froze solid and were unable to clean it off. That's what the day was like. And so I saw a guy cleaning off his windshield at the gas station, carefully wiping it down, along with his wiper blades.

I pulled in next to him. He drove a white Chevy pickup with a front tag boasting support for the Carolina Panthers. We wore a Harley Davidson stocking cap, and he looked at me flatly when I finally got his attention to ask my question.

"Why?" he asked. It was a normal response, so I told him I pray for someone every day and wanted to say a prayer for him. His reaction was immediate. "Not me," he said, continuing to clean off his windshield. But I wasn't going to let him go at that. "How come?" I asked.

"I don't believe in God." This response surprised me. In 149 days of this project, no one has outright said that. I've been denied plenty of times -- even angrily. But never the plain statement of disbelief. So I was a bit at a loss.

But he wasn't inviting a conversation on the subject, still cleaning that windshield. "Is there anyway I can help you along those lines?" I asked. He was curt now. "No," he said, turning his back and continuing to work on that dirty windshield. So I wished him a good night and left. Obviously, I prayed for him as I drove home.

But the thought nagged. There was more that I could have done. I left some words unsaid. At the very least, I believe, I should have made my confession of faith. I should have told him that Christ died for him, and that he is loved. I'm certain that would have advanced the conversation in one direction or another. It's also our duty as Christians to profess Christ to everyone. That means to express our faith in a way that leaves no room for ambiguity. I didn't do this as well as I should have.

Day 148: Snowy night

I took a different route home through the snow and the cold, stopping at a Kwik Shop that I rarely visit. An old guy was working on filling up a little gasoline container in the bed of his pickup truck. He was bundled up -- gloves and stocking cap. He looked at me, disinterested.

"Can I pray for you?" I asked. He chuckled out loud then. "I wish somebody would!" he said, turning to look at the gas pump, ticking away the dollars. He didn't look back, and I was standing there in the cold waiting. I didn't wait for long.

"Is that a yes?" I asked. He glanced back at me, and then turned again toward the pump. I was looking at the back of his stocking cap. "You're free to do whatever you want," he said, "Whatever turns you on." OK. "Well, this turns me on," I replied.

So I prayed a prayer for his safety for that snowy night. He never turned around at me. Never even looked. "Thanks!" I said. He kind of mumbled one in return.

Day 147: Johnson's

I stopped in Johnson's General Store to buy a cup of coffee. Really, I was just there to pray for whoever I found. The clerk was a young, skinny guy with tattoos on his arms. I had to wait in line behind another young man who was buying cigarettes. The clerk carded him.

But then it was my turn, and we exchanged pleasantries. I told the clerk I had a quick question for him. "I've got a quick answer for you." OK. So I asked him. "Can I pray for you?" He paused and looked at me. A little grin was on his face, but he was confused. "Explain." So I did, telling him about my project.

"Then sure you can pray for me. Pray all you want." So I did, right there, asking God to bless him that snowy evening. The clerk held out his hand then and shook mine. "Thanks. That was awesome." I could tell he really meant it. So much so that I stopped at the door. "You've probably never had anyone do that for you before," I said. "Never," he responded, "That was really cool."

Day 146: Two for three

I was in south Wichita today and thought I might as well find someone to pray for while I was there -- a good change of scene. So I found myself picking up a couple of things at a very busy Walmart. It was in a low-income area with a much broader mix of cultures than the Walmart we frequent. It had a noticeably different feel to it.

So I took a walk around the parking lot, making a big circle and finding a big guy slowly making his way toward the door. I asked if I could pray for him. He said that I could. He never really made eye contact, and I think that was because he had trouble seeing. But a prayer was OK and when I finished, he said he would pray later for me, too. "So you're a believer then," I said. He chuckled. "Yes I am."

A moment later, I was back in my car and another guy passed by, making a long, slow walk across the parking lot. I'm not sure where he was headed. But I circled my car around and caught up to him, rolling down my window and asking him my question. He looked me over. "No. Not today." And then he turned his back and kept walking. There was nothing I could do. But it reaffirmed my belief that you've got to get out of your car to witness -- get on the same level with people.

On my way home, I had to make one more stop. And so I got out of my car again and made another big loop at our local Walmart. I encountered a young guy, a Walmart employee, moving carts next to the building. He wore a silver cross around his neck. A strange look came across his face when I asked my question.  "What?" So I asked again. And he reluctantly agreed, and we prayed. Then I looked right at the cross he wore. I asked, "You're a believer, aren't you?" He said he was.

Day 145: Yankees

We didn't actually talk about his hat. But it was a New York Yankees ball cap. You don't see that every day around here. I saw him filling up his van with gas and pulled in alongside him and asked him my question. It had been a frustrating day for me, trying to find someone to pray for. The opportunities had been hard to come by, and the courage often was lacking.

But I did ask this guy. He was short and round, with a white stubble beard and that NY ball cap. And he said he would like to pray for me, too. So I prayed for him, in whatever it was he was doing that evening, asking for God's blessing on him. "Back at you," he said when I finished, "I'll remember you in my prayers tonight."

He said his name was Bob from Newton, and we shook hands and chatted. He attends NewSpring Church, where the rest of his family goes. But that was a tough decision because he was one of the founding members of another church in Wichita -- I didn't catch the name -- and had a difficult time leaving it. But you can't beat going to church with your family.

So he was a Christian. As he got in his van, he told me not to stop believing.

Day 144: Gas prices

I figured him for a tough guy. He was about 55 years old, a mustache, glasses and cap. He was driving an old white car, an Oldsmobile or something. He noted the gasoline prices. “They keep going up don’t they?” I agreed. $2.99 a gallon.

We chatted then. He said he would have to start riding his bike – motorcycle that is – even in winter if prices keep moving that direction. We chuckled about it. He’d have trouble with that on the ice. He was friendly. He was cynical. He wasn’t afraid to cuss.

I stepped over to him before he got into his car and asked him my question. His demeanor changed a little then. He quieted some and said I could pray for him. He was quite willing. He thanked me afterward and shook my hand.

Day 143: Hooks

I was at Home Depot looking for hooks – the kind you screw into a wall – for a church project. A few feet away in the hardware aisle was an employee, a guy about 40 years old with short hair speckled with gray. His name was Chris, as far as I could tell from his worn orange apron.

When he came around the corner to do some inventory of some products, we chatted for a moment. “How are you doing?” “Great!” “And you?” “Great!” That kind of stuff. Real deep.

But then I found what I needed and, taking a long look around, stepped over next to him. “I’ve got a question for you,” I said. “OK,” he replied, not looking up. He was moving some things around on the shelves.

Wanting to get his attention a little more, I added: “It’s kind of a weird question.” To this, he gave much the same response, still working with those shelves. So I just asked him: “Can I pray for you?”

He shot upright then, and turned to look at me. “Why?” He surely was surprised. So I told him about how I like to pray for at least one person every day. This satisfied him. “Well, in that case, absolutely you can,” he said.

So I prayed there for him, that God would bless him as he finished out his work for the night.

Day 142: Bored at Subway

From the street, I could see him -- standing at the front counter of the Park City Subway, his elbows on the counter, his chin cradled in his two hands, just waiting. That's what I call a boring evening. So I hoped to spice it up a little for the guy.

He was about 20 years old and had a sharp, intellectual look to him. He evidently had seen me pull up because he was putting on plastic gloves when I walked in. "Welcome to Subway!" he said. I greeted him and walked over to where he was, asking if I could ask a question. He said OK.

"Can I pray for you?"

He paused. "Excuse me? Come again?"

"I was wondering if I could say a prayer for you."

Another pause, puzzlement on his face. "Uhhhhhh. ... Why?"

I told him I like to pray for someone every day, and I hadn't prayed for anyone yet.

"Well, I guess there's no reason why not," he said, starting to come around to the idea, or at least just to play along. We talked about for just a minute longer. He said he would "honored" if I prayed for him, even right then and that he wouldn't stop me. He kept working on those plastic gloves as I prayed.

And that was it. I thanked him and asked if he'd had a good night. He didn't really answer that. But he did ask if I was going to order a sandwich.

Day 141: Deserving it

He was a tough-looking guy, wearing a ball cap and glasses. He was filling up a white Chevrolet S-10 pickup. I loosely observed him put the pump back onto the handle and twist on the gas cap. He was about to leave, so I stepped over to him, talking to him across the bed of his truck. "Can I pray for you?" I asked.

That stopped him. He just looked at me. "Now what did I do to deserve that?" There was something in his tone. It was one of those where you accentuate every word in the asking of the question. So I thought this might be problematic.

"Well, nothing," I said. "I just try to pray for someone every day, and you're it." In an instant, he seemed satisfied with that. He seemed to lighten, if just a little. "Sure you can," he said. So I did, still talking across the bed of that truck.

I told God that I didn't know this man, but that I prayed he would be blessed in whatever it was he was doing that night. The guy thanked me then. "I'm headin' home," he said. And he got in his truck. Good enough.

Day 140: Leeker's

I'm not sure whether I laughed audibly or whether it was internal. But after I looked up from my prayer for the clerk at Leeker's Family Foods in Park City, I was looking into the face of a young woman truly puzzled by what had just happened.

Her name was Millie, or Minnie -- I couldn't quite tell by the worn name badge -- and she said with some hesitation that I could pray for her. And so I did, asking God to bless her in her work that evening. There wasn't much time left in the day, so she was probably looking forward to being done with it all.

But she didn't quite know what to make of me, which was most most clear after the prayer itself. She didn't actually say anything. But her expression did -- a look of surprise and an unknowing of how to respond. Normally, I would have just thanked her and left. But I had to stop.

"You've probably never had anyone do that for you before," I remarked. "No, I haven't," she said. So I told her that I hoped it would happen for her again sometime in the future. She only kind of smiled. And that's when I thanked her and left.

Day 139: Witnessing

The clerk at Walmart caught my attention after I had prayed for her. She was about 45 years old and not very talkative at first. I had asked about her New Year, and she said it was good. At the time I was buying a few pieces of hardware for a little project I was working on.

There wasn't much material to strike up a deeper conversation with so I just waited until she handed me my receipt. No one else was coming in line behind me, so I asked her my question, and she agreed -- maybe just a little bit hesitantly.

After the "amen," she smiled. "I'll have to tell my son about you. He likes to do that, too." She told me that her son -- who I'm guessing is a high school student -- likes to witness to people but has found that a lot of others don't like to do that. They don't want to go share their faith. But of course, it's as simple as just asking to pray for someone. That's you reaching out to others with the message of God's love. Just get Jesus into the conversation.

Obviously, I'm still learning about this. But it was nice to hear of others out there with the same mission.