I was walking with my wife down Main Street in Las Vegas, NV. We were on a mission trip with college students. The team was passing out tracts and approaching people to offer prayer and conversation.

I was amazed at the overhead digital screen that spanned an entire road and stretched for several blocks - the largest such screen in the world.

Then, there was the zip-line underneath the screen where every couple minutes two or three people would scream by.

And off to my right - an obese guy in a bikini.

No, really. He was maybe 300+ lbs with pale white skin and black patchy hair that covered his back and, well, other parts. He was wearing a skimpy gold sequined bikini/showgirl outfit in an area where tourists can have their pictures taken with look-a-likes - Brett Michaels, Rod Stewart, and Captain Jack Sparrow were there.

I averted my eyes - not so much from moral imperative, but to keep from throwing up in my mouth.

Okay, so that's an exaggeration, but I did keep walking and we had a great couple hours of approaching strangers and sharing the Gospel.

But later that night, God kicked me in my pants.

When the team was debriefing, one college student shared his experience of talking with the guy in the bikini.

The guy had run a successful business for some time, but when the market in Vegas collapsed, his business crashed too. He was desperate and even though it was embarrassing, people will pay for pictures with a novelty like a fat hairy showgirl.

When our student offered prayer and placed his hand on the man's furry back the wildest thing happened. There, in the middle of the lights and swarms of people, the guy closed his eyes and raised his hands in the air during the prayer.

I don't know details about the conversation or the prayer, but what I do know is I was ashamed.

When I first walked passed the guy, it wasn't like I looked at him and thought, "Oh, a guy like that wouldn't want to talk about Jesus." I didn't even get that far. What really happened is that he was invisible to me. A non-person. Even while I'm writing this, I feel sick at myself.

I've always been one to say you can't tell who will be receptive and who won't by looking at them, but it took another faithful Christian to show me my heart.

As I've looked back on that night, I can see the faces of others I ignored in favor of more "normal" people - a gangster, a transvestite, a beggar, a loony.

It's been hard to come to grips with, but as much as I like to think I am a lover of people, I've had to confess and repent over the fact that "people" hasn't included everybody.

Next time, I'm committed to being the first in line to talk with the oddball, reject, or freaky person. Now that I think about it, despite the veneer, that describes everyone, everywhere.

And, God has been dealing with me on looking past people's oddities and seeing their potential.

What if a guy like that, who will swallow his pride and be brazen for a buck, got a hold of Jesus in total surrender. Can you imagine what he'd be capable of? Fearless.

Sometimes, the very thing that makes us want to pass by is the reason we should stop.

God forgive me and break down every prejudice and distance I place between myself and others.