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.
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