As I was driving to work one morning before Thanksgiving, I noticed with dismay the message displayed on the digital sign, “Drive-Thru Open”. There were service vehicles parked close to the entrance and yellow tape blocked the door, indicating the lobby was closed. I prayed against the alarming idea that the interior was being remodeled. My heart sank as weeks passed and the lobby remained closed. A large dumpster had been positioned in the parking lot close to the door. Christmas passed and the New Year arrived before the fast food restaurant reopened.

This had been my favorite wifi spot over the past 18 months. I came here frequently on weekends and many weeknights to work on volunteer projects and to catch up on social media and the internet. There were different seating areas that offered a measure of privacy and barriers to contain noise. TVs were positioned to view sports or news. I was comfortable here and relaxed in the ebb and flow of people.

The clientele changed with the time of day. Seniors gathered in mornings for breakfast and fellowship, locals who knew the buildings and streets before development had changed the landscape. They greeted one another warmly with smiles and shared their latest news. In the afternoons and evenings, parents and coaches brought sports teams of young people, hectically trying to keep track of everyone and regroup before leaving. Such patience and dedication. There were assorted travelers who stopped just long enough to eat or visit the restroom. There was a woman who came alone frequently and always read a book while eating. We would exchange a smile in the familiarity of recognition but never had a conversation. I observed over the course of many weeks different young men who came in later at night, usually alone. In the coldest weather, they would be without a coat or jacket, walking around, almost pacing, sweating. They would sit down for a few minutes, then get up and move around, always on their cell phones. I prayed as I watched them. Had they just shot up, were they looking for a place to sleep, needing money? I prayed as I worked. Eventually they would walk outside and disappear into the night.

An elderly man of slight build came in one evening and chose a booth across the room. I hardly noticed him at first but did spot an empty fry box on his tray. I watched him pull two cans of vienna sausages from a small backpack. He removed a bottle and filled it at the water fountain. When he finished his food, I saw him count some change. He was dressed adequately but thin. I approached his table and spoke. He smiled in response but declined help. Once he finished eating, he filled his bottle once again, put on his backpack, and disappeared into the night. I sensed that he was on foot. More prayers.

I had been at the wifi café three days in a row, Saturday, Sunday afternoon, and Monday morning. I needed to upload a file, so I stopped quickly before work to get that done. I noticed a man sitting in a booth, reading the newspaper. This was the third day in a row I had seen the guy. He was dressed in the same green fatigue jacket, buttoned without a shirt underneath, which he had been wearing the previous two days, but he looked clean. Hair was cut and he appeared to be decently groomed. I had heard him talking to a woman on Saturday night. Apparently she had asked for directions and he was attempting to describe the I-40/75 interchange. She was worried because her cell phone was almost dead. He spoke to me briefly to ask if I had a phone charger. I barely looked up as I answered that I did not have one. I thought he was being very patient with her, as I concentrated on my work. She eventually left and he settled back into his booth. I finished my work and went home, forgetting about the incident. But now, this morning, he was here once again. I walked over to his table and asked him if he would like some breakfast. He smiled brightly and said, “Sure!” We walked towards the counter. He explained that he had been living in the woods and trying to find a job. He had gone to a local thrift store and found a pair of black pants. When he told the clerk that he had a job interview that afternoon, she kindly gave him the pants for free. He spoke well, he was at ease, and he was polite. He was not inappropriate in any way and did not ask for anything. I paid for his breakfast and told him I would pray for him and wished him well with his employment. He expressed his gratitude, and I left for work. As I drove towards Knoxville, the Lord spoke to me about this man. He said, “You saw this man twice but did not pray for him.” I felt a punch of conviction as I realized the truth of His words. Why had I not lifted prayers for him until the third day? I was so focused on the work I was doing on the weekend and the desire to complete it promptly that I failed to notice this person in need.

Another evening a police officer came in alone and sat down with his tray a few tables over from where I was sitting. He was watching the news while he ate. I felt I should speak to him in greeting and decided to wait until he finished his food. At an appropriate moment, I spoke to him from my seat. I thanked him for his service and shared prayers for all in uniform. He nodded his head in response but said I should pray for those who serve in the inner cities as their lives are on the line all the time. He talked about that and then we spoke of our nation. We talked about people, God, church, and his mother. He mentioned the bible and quoted a few scriptures during our conversation. We had a nice talk before he left to return to duty.

The day finally came when the words on the digital sign were changed to read, “Now Open”. With some trepidation I pulled into the parking lot, dreading what I was going to discover. I walked inside and looked around in disbelief. The entire restaurant had been remodeled. All of the previous décor was gone, replaced with endless gray tile and plastic chairs. I chose a seat in the area where I had sat previously, fighting back tears from the shock. The heaviness in my heart felt like grief. The entire dining area was now wide open, with no intimacy or warmth. The TVs had been removed, and there were no barriers to buffer noise or conversations. The lights were bright and glaring. It looked like a utilitarian facility, not a place to gather. The atmosphere was dramatically altered. I heard from one of the staff that the remodel was a corporate decision.

Though I have visited several times since the construction was completed, the place remains uncomfortable. Devoid of its own uniqueness, there is no incentive to return. What was once there is gone.

I use other wifi locations more often now, and wherever I go I see needs — a word, a smile, conversation, prayer, kindness. One Sunday afternoon I was alone in a café and a woman approached asking for change for the vending machines nearby. I had no change in my purse, but we started talking. She shared her weariness and fatigue of caring for a sick friend, staying out of town from home, and the burdens in her life. During the next hour, she shared her struggles and I was able to share my story and pray with her, twice, before we hugged in parting with tears and smiles. I have discovered that on my lowest days, God sends someone across my path for me to encourage and in so doing, I am lifted and strengthened. Precious love from Above. Sometimes I get tired of the hassle, wishing I had internet where I live, and I have shared that desire with the Lord. When I left the café that Sunday evening, I heard the Lord ask, “How could you have ministered to her at home on your private internet?” I cannot help others when I am tucked away in safe huddles and closed circles.   

The goal is not to get comfortable, but to continue to serve.