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.