I know exactly what you mean.

“How many people wear their walls on their faces, daring life to hurt them again.”

I used to be one of them.

“I’ve never realized before how many people here are different than me: how many are black, how many are Muslim, how many are recently come from Asia. They remind me of others I have known. They remind me to pray.”

I actually never realized how many were the same despite their outward appearance–the eyes cannot hide fear, pain, loneliness, despair or unfortunately hate.

“I pray a lot when I’m out there. I pray for the people driving past. I pray for the city, this entity made up of all these faces and the souls behind them. I pray that Jesus Christ will come and make Himself known here. That He will find the lost; humble the haughty; comfort the wounded; break the hardness and bring joy, holiness, righteousness, peace.”

While out there… I began my first foray into intercessory prayer. A biggie for me, because I consider my prayer skills lacking… but as people approached my table or passed by and our eyes connected, the Lord let me know how and what to pray. (Kinda like your book, Lord Teach Us to Pray… If y’all haven’t read it… get it now!)

“It makes me consider myself a little, too. I realize how little I am. What a small piece of this place, of this world at large, I represent.”

I had that feeling as well… but as I started to feel overwhelmed, I remembered that I wasn’t the only soldier on duty. As my intercessory prayer met with those of others, it would unite as raindrops to water the earth and replenish the parched, dried out desert that this earth has become.

Great post, my sister from another mother!