Prayer at Panera

Opportune times of sharing the gospel happen unexpectedly. The kairos moment presents itself with nudging of the Holy Spirit, and I need to respond.

Some time back I was at my favorite Panera coffee shop and with notebook in hand was scribbling, under the shade of an umbrella. When the older man sat down in the hot sun nearby, I barely noticed. But then he began conversing, phone in hand.

“Could you watch my four horses at your ranch till I get back? And the dog…Yeah, I’ve been six days at the hospital here. The car accident….we were married for fourteen years. Met in the army in Afghanistan.”

I started praying. I tried to keep writing, but his story kept me transfixed.

“I’ve never felt so empty. But I know where she is, in Heaven. We didn’t go to church much, but she was a godly woman. Don’t know how I’m going to carry on….Just keep the horses till I get back….Making arrangements to have her body sent home to Texas. Yeah, I have $100, but no ID. My wallet was left in the wrecked car. I have to go find it, but can’t bear to go to the towing storage place yet. I may call Wounded Warriors here in town…”

I waited until he said goodbye, then moved into the hot sun and sat down across from the man. “Hi, I’m Marti, and I heard your conversation. Can I pray for you? I know what it’s like to feel pain and emptiness.”

The veteran peered at me, a little surprised. “Thank you,” he said finally, and took my outstretched hand in both of his. “I’m Rick.” And he went on to tell me how he and his wife had PTSD after Afghanistan, rode the range in Texas on days when it was hard. “Fourteen years we were married. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

So I prayed for Rick. Fervently. For healing and grace. Tried to explain how to invite Jesus in to fill the hollow of life.

“No, I’m not ready to invite Jesus in. I already know about Him.” But he accepted the New Testament I retrieved from the car, and we talked more. “I’ll be praying for you often,” I finally told him. I wrote my telephone number in the cover of the book. Call me and my husband anytime.

He left later, and I sat under the umbrella feeling a little dazed. Had I said enough? Should I have given money, or invited him to stay with us? “You did the right thing,” the Holy Spirit assured me. “You gave him My word. You can keep praying.