prayer encounters

Kenya, Moldova, Russian Federation, Philippines, South Africa, Malaysia, Canada, Indonesia, India, Guatemala, Cameroon, Italy, Greece, Australia, and USA!

A pastor friend of mine is a regular at his neighborhood YMCA.  He was a powerlifter as a young man and still enjoys pumping iron.  You cannot miss Mark coming.  He looks part biker, part Rabbi, part Santa.  He has one of those awesome beards that I will never successfully grow.  He can preacher curl more than any preacher I know.

Many people know him at his Y.  He will talk to anyone and something about him makes people want to approach him.  He is a curious fellow.  Did I mention he is also an amateur illusionist, has a PhD. in Old Testament, and lived in a Marxist kibbutz in Israel for a few years?

One of his regular conversation partners is a good old Baptist.  They talk Bible and theology in between sets. The guy can talk nonstop.  One day he came up to Mark with a tired look on his face and said, “I’ve had the worst two weeks of my life.  My wife died and my adult mentally challenged son doesn’t understand it…I guess I don’t either.”

Mark listened to him, consoled him and shared some comforting scripture which this man could recite from memory.  The man walked off and continued his workout. 

A few minutes later he came back and talked some more about it.  He was really struggling.  He looked over at his son about 10 paces away.  His son was happily going about his day not seeming at all affected by his father’s struggle.  

Mark listened more to the man’s grief, and talked some more with him of the resurrection and the promise of peace.  The man walked away and did another set.  He came back and talked some more.

Mark said at this point the Spirit began to nudge him, “He needs prayer.”  No more talk.  He put down his weights, placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, and began to pray.  He prayed for the man and his big little child.  For peace and understanding.  For hope and healing.  For comfort. 

The man stood there for a moment with tears in his eyes. No more talk.  He nodded with gratitude, took his son, and went home. 

I got an email from an associate pastor at a church here in Nashville that is using Prayer Encounters as a devotional.  In it she thanked me for sharing my stories, inspirational thoughts, and prayer nudges…prayer nudges.

At the end of each chapter there is a Prayer Challenge.  I love that she referred to them as prayer nudges.  That is exactly what they are.

So many times I get these little nudges from the Spirit. “Pssst.  Hey, Paul.  Offer to pray for her.”  My goal in life has become to respond to the nudge every time.  I still click the cancel button sometimes.  This happens most often when I am in a hurry.  I catch the words coming out of my mouth that I swore off two years ago, “I will keep you in my prayers.” Gotta go.

But the nudge is still there. “Offer to pray now, Paul.”

I almost missed one yesterday.  I had just finished speaking at a retirement home about my experiences of living and working in NYC on 9/11 and how it led me to this prayer encounters thing.  I did not even see Felicia there in the back of the room leaning in from the door.

I had wrapped up my conversations and was making my way to the elevator.  Point of clarity–the slowest elevator ever created.  Just as the doors FINALLY opened there was Felicia, a building employee, quietly standing behind me trying to get my attention. She had slipped out of the lunch room to hear part of my talk.

She handed me a note and said, “I heard what you said about praying for people and I wanted to give you this prayer request.”  The elevator doors closed again. I had time.  Nudge. Ahem–Paul. Nudge.

I looked at the note.  She wanted her day care back.  She had kept kids in her home up until a year ago when she lost her home.  “I really miss taking care of children.”  Nudge.

She was kind of looking over her shoulder to see if her supervisor saw her not working.  Now or never. I said, “Will you let me say a prayer right now.  It will just take a few seconds.”  She nodded. And it really only took a few seconds.  She looked up, smiled, and went back to work.

I missed the elevator again.  I decided to take the stairs instead.

Some of you may know that 11 years ago today, I was in working and living in Manhattan as an investment advisor.  My call to ministry in many ways came out of my experience in NY on that day and the days, weeks, and months following.  On the 10 year mark of 9/11 I shared some of my remembrances of the day as well as scripture that gives me comfort on days like this.

Here is the link to the sermon entitled “Good News with Skin On”:

http://www.sermon.net/priestlakepresbyterian/sermonid/2776369