I have no idea why I was so intrigued by that old man sitting on the park bench. Our mission for the night was to pray for random people on the streets, but out of all the other people around the park- for some reason, I wanted to go over and talk to him. My translator was hesitant at first. Apparently, he knew this particular gentleman and that he didn’t like people to talk to him… or pray for him for that matter. However, being the stubborn person that I am sometimes, I told him that I wanted to at least give it a shot.
He was dressed in a business shirt and jeans. As I sat down next to him on the bench, I immediately noticed the blood shot eyes and hint of alcohol on his breath. I would say he was in his late 50’s. I started the conversation by asking how he was and if he had family around here. In the next 10-20 minutes, he felt compelled to tell me all about how he went through a terrible divorce a few years back and no longer has a relationship with his two daughters. One of them even moved away to Italy, and he hasn’t seen or talked to her since.
As I was listening to him continue to share his story, I was asking the Holy Spirit to give me the words to say. I was praying that God would open my eyes to see what He sees, instead of what I saw on the surface.
It would have been easy for me to judge someone like this, especially through all the hurt and pain that I’ve experienced in my own life due to alcoholism and divorce. However, as he was looking right into my eyes and confessing things left and right… almost as if he thought I could understand every word without the translator- I felt my heart start to ache for HIM. I felt a strong sense of guilt and shame. I sensed a pattern of hopelessness in his life… that he had lost everything and that there was nothing he could do about it.
And in that moment- I felt the need to pray for him.
And surprisingly- he agreed to have the translator translate my prayer for him. So I placed my hands on his shoulders and began to pray.
I prayed from a sincere place in my heart. I prayed for everything that I would want in this situation. I prayed for restoration in his family. I prayed that God would crush the enemy’s lies of believing that there is no hope or future. That life is too hard. I prayed that God would reign down over his life, showering him with forgiveness and mercy. I prayed that he would receive a new spirit, a sense of hope, and a renewed mind. I prayed for courage and boldness, enabling him to step into the man and father that he has ultimately been called to be. I prayed that he would come to truly believe that God loves him, and that no matter what he’s done in the past- that he can be forgiven and made new in Jesus Christ, who died on the cross and paid the ultimate price out of a pure and genuine love.
And as I was fighting back tears to get everything out, for the first time in my life- I believed that this was possible.
Not only for this man on the park bench… but for my own family as well. In that instance- I realized that just as God could redeem this man and his family, he could redeem my own family as well. He could restore my relationship with my father. He could shower the same mercy and forgiveness down on my family. And most importantly, he could restore the same hope.
In the past few weeks leading up to this event, I was actually feeling a bit convicted in the area of prayer. I realized that it was sometimes “easier” for me to pray the “big prayers” over random people that I come into contact with on this race… but as far as praying these same “big prayers” for my family back home- I’m sometimes more hesitant.
So, I started to question myself in an effort to figure out the root of this issue. Was it because I didn’t trust God completely? Was it because I had actually lost my own sense of hope when it came to certain relationships in my life? Was it because I questioned God’s motives for years with all the terrible things that were happening in my life? I realized that it could very well be a number of things… but last month, I made the decision to surrender the what-ifs and ask God to help me grow in this area.
It’s funny how fast God works sometimes. When I prayed for that anonymous man on the park bench that day, something in me changed. I felt a sense of hope. As he was crying and hugging me, I believed in what I was praying for. I believed that walls were coming down and chains were breaking. I believed that no matter how crazy it may seem, there's nothing that God can't accomplish. I believed that He was listening to my prayers and working behind the scenes to break chains and restore relationships in my own family.
And over the past week, I can proudly say that I’ve already seen this starting to manifest in my family, and it’s absolutely beautiful! I will no longer doubt God… because in Him, anything is possible.
Anything. Even the impossible.
I just have to BELIEVE.
