It was my birthday, and we were eating at Applebee's. The waitress, named Emma, wasn't particularly happy. She kind of rushed us into ordering, something that's not going to be a very successful effort with four kids sitting at the table. They really had to mull over their options.
So that was the service that night. Curt. Abrupt. Not unfriendly, but not social either. That changed dramatically when I asked her my question. A huge smile came across her face. Absolutely, I could pray for her, she said. So I did. "Can you keep praying for me tonight? I need more of that," she said. I told her we would.
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