He was a tall guy with a beard, getting gas at the Park City QuikTrip. I asked to pray for him and he gave me a little smile. I explained my project and he still smiled. I could tell right away that he was a friendly guy.
"You sure can," he said. But he couldn't stop for a prayer just then. "I tell you what," he said, holding out his hand to shake mine. "My name's Ken, and you can pray for me as I'm out on the highway." Then he asked my name. "I'll say a prayer for you, too," he said. And then he was gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment