Walking "missionally"

I walk to work each morning.

I guess that makes me a little bit unusual, and indeed people seem to think it's quite remarkable. Picture a middle-aged man walking along with his hands jammed casually into pockets, whistling some little made-up tune to himself, like some 50s televison dad (but for the goatish Charlie-Hall-wannabe chin whiskers).

Well, anyway, picture that. It's a 45 minute walk and I try to spend much of it in "an attitude of prayer." As you may recall, I've been mulling over the word "missional" and trying to apply it to my life. Can I walk through town each morning with a missional perspective?

I have a confession to make. I never talk to anyone about Jesus. Ever. I mean, outside of my small coterie of believing friends. And I'm determined to do so this week. I'm determined to break through that particular "glass ceiling" and I'm thinking it'll happen on my walk to or from work.

So here's what happened this morning. It was a fine morning, an excellent morning, with a clear blue sky and signs of Spring everywhere you look. And as I walked, each time I crossed paths with another pedestrian I wondered, "Is this the one, God? Is this the one with whom I'll share the good news?"

Often people stop me as I walk to ask for money or directions or a cigarette. That's what I'm waiting for. The next panhandler. The next lost tourist. The next hard-up smoker. But I had no such interaction this morning. Then I came to an intersection near one of our major hospitals, and there was a couple sitting on the bench there. They were near my own age, perhaps, and the woman had such a look of mournfulness, a truly grief-stricken look, that it really set me back.

The man was gently massaging her neck, as she gripped her coffee and stared blankly at something that no one else could see. And here's the thing. I passed them by. I prayed for them then and there, in my own mind, but the old inhibition kicked in and I couldn't bring myself to simply stop and ask, "Can I pray for you guys?" Though that was exactly what I knew I should do at that moment.

I feel certain that that was a divine appointment, and I missed it. It's not that I'm feeling all guilty about this, I know that God has it covered, but I think the experience taught me just how strong this personal inhibition is in me. And I'm going to break through that this week.

Here's my goal. To tell someone about Jesus. Remember how the early Christians filled the whole city of Jerusalem with their good news? I want to be one who helps to do that in my own city.

Pray for me, please. And I'll keep you posted.