Day 107: Hospitality

I found myself at the Hyatt Regency in Wichita. Our company hosted an event there, and I walked the halls afterward seeing who I would find. A few guests were sitting around the large lobby, and the bar seemed to be busy. I could see a basketball game on the big screen.

At first, there was no one available to talk to. Everyone was in some conversation, and the hotel staff were busy doing their jobs. So I just stood in front of the revolving doors and waited. Then, not wanting to look predatory, I took out my cell phone. There wasn’t anyone to call. And our phone isn’t a smart phone. Lacking any real task or activity, I got creative: I scrolled through the contacts file. There are a lot of names in there!

A couple minutes later – after several rounds of guests had walked into the hotel, chatting happily – a hotel employee passed by and noticed me standing there. “How are you doing?” he asked. He was friendly, a young guy probably in his first job, dressed all in black. “Great,” I said. “Can I ask you a question?”

He stepped over beside me. “Sure,” he said. Everything about him was polite, clean cut, very responsive – everything you’d want in a hospitality employee. He clasped his hands in front of him as he listened to me.

“Can I pray for you?” I asked. Here again, he was responsive, and he immediately said yes. I clarified, telling him I wanted to say a quick prayer for him right there. Again, he agreed. So I prayed.

Afterward, he thanked me. “I’m a Christian, and I really appreciated you doing that,” he said. “I’ve accepted Jesus into my heart. It’s something I did when I was 12 years old.” That’s how old I was when I was baptized, and I told him that. He thanked me then again, and asked where I was from.

Our conversation ended shortly afterward. As I drove home, I was glad I’d found him. I was glad to find someone who openly professed his faith. He just outright said what he believed, and I know I’ve not always done that.

Day 106: Gasoline and patience

He was standing next to his tanker truck as gasoline flowed from it into the underground storage tanks at the gas station. There apparently was nothing to do but wait, and he stood there looking down at his cell phone underneath the large lettering on the side of his truck: M.J. Murphy Oil Co.

He was an older guy, short and stocky. I parked my car and walked up to him, asking him my question. "Huh?" he said, tilting his head and leaning toward me. I then was staring at what must have been his good ear. "Can I pray for you?" I said, a little louder.

"Sure, you can pray for me," he said. His was a voice that carried, probably because he couldn't hear much. We bowed our heads, and I prayed a short prayer for his safety. "Amen," I said, shaking his hand. He smiled, and we chatted for a little bit. It had been a busy day, sort of. His job is to drive back and forth to the Frontier refinery in El Dorado. Once there, he gets in a line of other trucks waiting for loads of gasoline. He waited for an hour and a half on the first run, an hour and 45 minutes on the next one and two hours on the next.

Only three deliveries that day, which is unusual. And a lot of waiting around. I didn't get to ask him what he does while he's sitting there. But he did say his heater was working in his cab. A few moments later, I left him there, standing by his truck, waiting yet again.

Day 105: Stray french fries

I bumped into a young woman working at McDonald's. She was sweeping the floor, and I was holding a cup of coffee. She was diligent about her work, sweeping under all the tables, bringing out all the dropped french fries and straw wrappers and napkins of the day. She missed nothing.

I asked if I could pray for her, and she paused. She was young -- she told me later she was in high school. I filled the silence after my question by admitting it likely seemed a weird question. She didn't disagree but said it would be OK if I prayed for her. However, she cautioned, "Only if it's a good prayer." I smiled at that. Yes, I said, it most definitely would be a good prayer. She smiled, too.

She kept sweeping during this time, but not with the same focus as before. When I told her I wanted to pray for her right then, a very short prayer, she frowned. "I don't really know how to pray," she said. I think she misunderstood me, so I clarified that I would pray for her. She didn't have to do anything. And so I prayed for her right there. She seemed to appreciate it, in a puzzled sort of way.

When I walked out of that store, I had quite a bit of regret. She didn't know how to pray. That's a sad statement. I could have done more for her, I think. I could have asked her more questions, about what her faith life is like and whether she had accepted Christ.

But at the same time, I think also that perhaps I'm just a piece of God's plan. We don't have to do it all when we reach out to others. We don't have to find them, convert them, get them baptized and help them grow their relationship with God to maturity. That's a daunting task that can scare us out of even trying to evangelize. But we can do a portion of that, and we can trust God to find others to do the rest. Personally, although I would love to witness someone's conversion, I can be satisfied with just finding people and planting seeds.

So with this McDonald's employee, maybe somebody will come along who's much more qualified than me who can lead her into that relationship. On my way home, I prayed that will be the case.

Day 104: Running shoes

It wasn't an everyday experience. I went shopping today with my brother and sister. Going shopping is rare enough. With my brother and sister, it's close to unprecedented. It was just the three of us, but it was nice to spend time with them. Not that it took long. We went to just one store, with one item in mind, and with about an hour's worth of time.

I needed some new shoes. The soles of mine are starting to fall off. It's one of those things with shoes: You think they're fine, but then you look down one day and notice there's not much of them left.

We went to Sports Authority. The place was almost closed for the night. We were pretty much the only shoppers there. The employees probably were relieved, especially after Black Friday. That's where I found someone to pray for.

He was a tall blonde guy, highly athletic-looking and maybe 25 years old at the most. A sharp contrast from me, who probably doesn't belong in a sporting goods store. He was working on some stuff in the golf section, a vast expanse of clubs and other items, empty of people. So that was good.

I asked if I could pray for him. He looked at me a little strange, uncomfortable with the question, but determined to play it cool. "Pray for me? Why." I was honest: "It's just something I like to do for someone every day, and today, you're it." He smiled and kept putting things on the shelves. "Why am I it?" he asked. Again, I had to be honest: "Because I'm about to go home and you're probably the last person I'm going to see today." (I was basically admitting he was picked by default. Not exactly divine selection ... unless it is.)

But he smiled again at this and said it would be OK. So I just bowed my head and prayed. I noticed he stopped working for those few seconds. It was a short prayer. Later we chatted a little bit about the busy shopping season. Yesterday, he was at work at 4:30 a.m. in time to open the doors at 5 a.m. A line of about 100 people were at the door then. I was glad I had been sleeping.

Day 103: The deputy

Tonight was a struggle. I didn't step out of the house today until late. We'd had Thanksgiving here with Mary's family, so there was no reason to go anywhere. But the project called, so I was hoping quickly to find someone to speak to -- and then go home. Not the right attitude, I know.

Maybe that's why it was so difficult. God might have been teaching me a lesson. With nowhere that I really needed to go, I went to my normal places when such times arise. But there weren't that many people at QuikTrip, and the guy I had planned to pray for drove off as I pulled up to the pump.

Walmart was reasonably busy, but I didn't feel like a good opportunity came up. The clerk was way too busy to pray for. It still was Black Friday after all.

Finally, discouraged, I pulled into the Kwik Shop in Valley Center. I believe now it was part of God's plan because the timing couldn't have been any more perfect. The Sedgwick County Sheriff's deputy was walking out of the store as I pulled up. I swung into the stall next to his and called out to him over the top of my mini-van.

Now the fact that he was a cop was important to me because police officers have been on my mind for for the past week. I don't know why, other than that I've seen a lot of them recently, many of them in positions where they would be available for a prayer. But I had passed up every opportunity.

When the deputy heard me calling out to him, he stopped and waited for me to come around the van. He was about 35, not a tall man but bulky. Cops probably are always like this: A tense look on his face until he figures out what you're up to. Deputy Delgado was like that. But once he understood I wanted to pray, his face lightened and he smiled broadly. "Sure!" he said. "That would be great."

So we bowed our heads, and I prayed for him, that God would keep him safe and help him in his work that night. He stretched out his hand when I finished. "Thank you. I really appreciate that," he said, and then he added, "My family really appreciates that."

Day 102: Door-busters

Walmart was as you might have expected it on Thanksgiving evening. All hands were on deck. Swarms of employees blanketed the store wearing yellow vests, making them look a bit like a road crew that had come inside. At this point -- at 9 p.m. -- there wasn't much for them to do but stand around and guard the stacks of appliances and electronics that formed towers in the aisles. Shoppers so far were few.

I wove through this traffic on the way to picking up a couple of things for a Thanksgiving meal we were hosting tomorrow. At the cash register, the clerk told me the craziness would start at midnight, when the toys went on sale. The appliances wouldn't be discounted until 5 a.m.

She was friendly, probably 40 years old. She would miss most of the action, getting off before midnight and then coming back to work at 8:30 a.m., after the heaviest of the rush had subsided. But it still was going to be a busy time.

When I asked to say a prayer for her, she quickly agreed. And I bowed my head and prayed. At the start, she kind of chuckled a little, maybe just surprised. I prayed that God would bless her and help her through what was sure to be a busy time at her work. Afterward she thanked me. "I really needed that, especially today," she said.

Day 101: Meatball sandwich

He was standing behind the counter at Subway, working over three footlong sandwiches I'd ordered (it takes a lot to feed our crew). He was a young guy, with a long pony-tail, a scraggly beard and a ball cap. I'd never seen him in there before, so I figured he was new to the job. 

But he was efficient, as those Subway sandwich people are designed to be. He also was quiet. No small talk. So I just watched. Lettuce. Tomato. Mayonnaise. Meatballs. (Not all on the same sandwich, of course.) I paid and he handed me my change, and my receipt. I asked him my question then.

He looked down a little, and said, "Thank you." I wasn't sure what to make of that answer. He seemed to appreciate the question, but I told him I wanted to pray for him right then. There was another employee in the back of the store, but I think he was out of earshot. Otherwise, the place was empty.

The sandwich "artist" agreed then, and I prayed for him. He bowed his head, too. I prayed that God would bless him as he finished his work that night. After the "amen," I thanked him and wished him a happy Thanksgiving. He had a smile on his face.