prayer encounters

I met one of my favorite lunch partners, Josh, at an Ethiopian restaurant.  He is very energetic and always comes with fresh stories from his world travels. 

He comes along side missionaries and helps capture their ministry by video and photography.  At the same time, I always have some local ministry that I am equally passionate about.  As a result our conversations are usually loud and nonstop.  I often wonder as we are talking how annoying we must be, especially in a tiny little restaurant like the one we were in on this day.

Josh went to wash up.  I started to go to the buffet, but I decided to wait for Josh to come back.  I sat and waited. Frankly,  I usually just start stuffing my face.   

The restaurant was empty except for me and Josh and a woman sitting by herself.  Josh struck up a conversation with the owner.  And of course, Josh had traveled to this man’s home town somewhere in Ethiopia.  The restaurant was really struggling and he and his wife were barely making it.  He was concerned that his faith as a Muslim was hurting his business. 

I asked if we could pray for his business and his family.  He accepted.  We prayed for new customers and blessings for his family.  He thanked us graciously and went back to work. 

After a moment or two, the woman, the only other customer in the place, approached us.  She said, “I knew you were Christians when you waited for your friend to come back from the bathroom.  You rarely see manners like that anymore.”  My mother would be so proud. 

She continued, “I was really touched when you prayed for the restaurant owner.  I work for a retirement home and it is often depressing to me.  Today has been a particularly tough day.   Your conversation with each other and the way you prayed for that man really made my day!” 

Josh jumped up out of his seat and said, “I’ll be right back!”  He left the building and went to his car.  He came back with a stack of styrofoam-backed posters.  The picture was of a beautiful scene in South Africa near the by the sea. On the poster were words of hope. 

One of Josh’s many little ministries is to widows and widowers.  He turns his own photographs into posters and puts scripture on them to give to widows.   They are truly inspiring.  He always keeps a stack in his trunk.

He said, “Take these back with you and give them to whoever needs them the most.”  She was touched.  She took her posters and went to pay her bill.  We watched as she showed them to the restaurant owner.  He exclaimed, “I have been there!  That is my home my Africa!  Where did you get this?”

She explained and gave one to him.   He needed it. 

In my relatively short time in ministry, I have learned that while few people are apt to listen to a “cold call” type spiel on why they should give their life to Christ, very few people turn down an offer for prayer even from a stranger.

My knowledge of this began when I briefly served as a chaplain at an inner city hospital in Dallas.  The policy of the hospital was for chaplains to make contact with as many patients as possible.  The areas with which I was charged were the Neonatal ICU, Ante-Partum, and Post-Partum; the maternity areas, for better or for worse…too often worse. 

As a newly minted pastor, I was still a bit trepidatious about walking into the room of a total stranger whose religious beliefs were unknown to me.  This was quite different than the cold calls I used to make as a financial consultant.  I remember those first few timid knocks accompanied by “H…hello?  Chaplain here.  Can I come in?.”  I didn’t know what to expect.  Would they call security or what?  Imagine  knocking on some stranger’s bedroom door in their own home…Chaplain here.  Coming in. 

Whether it was a happy mother with child and family or a bereft and lonely woman suffering the unimaginable,  I was always welcomed in. Happy families would always receive a blessing for the new child.  Grieving families never turned down a listening ear and a prayer of comfort. In fact, in the whole summer I spent at the hospital, visiting 20 or 30 patients a day, I was never turned down for prayer.

Something about being in a hospital opens a person up to prayer.

As I shoved off into the “regular world” of ministry, I assumed it would be different.  I assumed that I would meet a world of resistance… but instead I met a whole world of need.

In my short four years of serving as a minister in Nashville, I have yet to find the person who refuses prayer.  Church members, sure, that’s normal, but I have prayed with strangers in parking lots, grocery stores, doctors offices, coffee shops, sporting events, restaurants- you name it.  Everyone seems to need and want prayer. 

Something about life opens a person up to prayer.

Sooner or later we all run into something we have no control of…some situation, some illness, some bad weather, some job loss, some rejection, some addiction, some pain of which we are not master.  In fact, we are all really quite vulnerable beings.  Realizing this puts us in the perfect position for prayer. 

In prayer we place our uncertainties before a God we at least hope is more powerful than that which seems to be dominating our lives at the moment. 

At first we may timidly knock at the door. “G-god. Paul here. Can I come in?“ wondering what stranger may reside on the other side of the door of our soul. But we will always be welcomed in by a God who is ready to hear and respond, to bless and to comfort, to forgive and accept until the day when prayer will be replaced by a smile and an embrace. 

In my former profession as a financial consultant, if I had told my sales manager I had never gotten a “no”, he would have said I hadn’t made enough calls or knocked on enough doors.

So I ask you. Can I pray for you?

One of the missions of our congregation is delivering Christmas and Easter food boxes for struggling families.  We get names from school counselors, who are often the most aware of the needs of families. 

We load up on a Saturday and go two by two with a handful of names and addresses, and a car full of boxes full of ham or turkey, fixin’s, and love. 

When we deliver the food we talk to the families and ask about their lives.  Then we offer prayer and a blessing.  Everyone comes back with lots of smiles and stories. 

 My delivery partner Sajeev and I knocked on the door of a woman and son.  The boy opened up the door with a big smile.  His mother let us in and showed us to the kitchen.  I am not sure there was any food in it.  The boy quickly grabbed some of the candy and ran off to his room. 

The mother told us about how this wasn’t her house.  It was her sister’s who was out of town.  They had just moved here from Chatanooga where she had been in a shelter for women.  The boy’s father had died.  She was trying to get into a housing program here in Nashville.  She said she began the day praying for food because  she did not know how she would get any and they were out.  When she got our call she knew God had answered her. 

The boy came back with a broken I-Pod and a half used bottle of cologne.  He gave Sajeev the I-Pod and me the cologne. “For you!”  How could I say no?

I invited us to hold hands and pray.  There we stood, a human family, heads bowed.  I prayed for all the needs mentioned by the mother and gave thanks for the generosity of the boy. 

 I started to say Amen, when the mother dropped to her knees- when I say dropped, I mean she literally dropped…hard- still holding our hands.  She lifted up her head and cried out to the Lord in a prayer that stunned me in its authenticity and emotion.  She gave thanks and asked God’s blessing on us and our church. 

 We left her with the box of food and we took hearts full of blessing.  Sajeev asked me, “Why do you think a 6 year old boy had a half used bottle of cologne in his room?”  It hit me like a 10 pound ham…it had belonged to his father.  He gave me his most precious possession.

Giving what is most precious for the sake of another is at the heart of the good news of Christ. 

Jesus was once a 6 year old boy and that day he was again.

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