This cool, rainy morning I was driving to work, heading toward the highway. Ahead I could see a car stopped in the yellow striped area in the center of the road, flashers on. It was a light colored early 90’s sedan of some sort. Outside, leaning against the car was a skinny, young black guy with his hands jammed into the pockets of his saggy jeans. Car trouble. Not just car trouble, but car trouble on a rainy morning, in heavy traffic, in West Chester, Ohio, a predominantly white, SUV kind of suburb. As chance (really, chance?) would have it, I pulled up to the stop light, perfectly aligned with his car. I had the thought of offering him money, then refrained. Not right. Then I had the thought of just rolling down my window and saying something, anything. That got quickly pushed out of my head, too. But only for a moment. I was pressed. I rolled down the window and with my best sympathetic smile (and meant it), I said “Car trouble.” He smiled shyly and said “Yeah.” I said back to him “I’ve been there. I know. I will pray for you.” Again, the shy smile and a “thank you.”
I did not forget. I prayed for him. I prayed that he would get help and that his day would not be ruined by this morning’s event. And I prayed that when things went okay, he would realize that there is a God who cares about him and that maybe, just maybe He is worth seeking. I do believe with age comes courage. I’m not exactly sure why, perhaps it is because we lose our concern about what people think, or maybe we realize that not for one moment would anyone think it is flirting. Whatever it is, I like the courage. There is a true freedom in it and I choose to embrace it, for myself and for the ones I hope to touch in some small way.