It was the cleanest gas station bathroom I've seen. When I opened the door, the smell of bleach hit me.

The mirror was sparkling and the tile had been scrubbed.

I was impressed. I've been in spotless bathrooms at places like the Broadmoor Resort - but a Seven Eleven? Never.

But I wasn't surprised. I had been impressed from the time I entered the building.

The worker behind the counter was an old man - probably in his seventies. The best word I know to describe him is "kind" - something about his eyes and how he talked to me.

The pumps were pre-pay and I wanted to fill my tank. Their policy was that I had to "guess" how much gas my tank would need. Pretty dumb.

But as the guy explained the policy, he almost acted like a doctor giving news of a terminal disease. It was like he was saying, "I'm really sorry - but your going to have to make your best guess and then make the long walk back to your car. And by the way, you have one month to live."

The guy was concerned about a minor inconvenience and somehow made me feel it. Uncommon.

So, I'm in the bathroom and imagine this same guy scrubbing the place down. (I don't know he was the one, but I suspect it.)

Maybe it was four in the morning. I could see him in there wiping down the glass, scrubbing the sink, and mopping the floor during a time few people entered the store.

And he was alone.

It struck me the guy was lonely.

Was he?

Was that God?

My imagination?

Either way, I couldn't shake the thought I should talk with him.

But, as I'm prone to do - I chickened out.

As I walked toward the exit, he said, "Thanks for your patience."

I said, "No problem at all" and then threw in a "may the Lord Jesus bless you today" for good measure.

I think he responded, "Oh ... yeah, you too."

As I started up the car and put on my seat belt he came running out of the store - moving faster than I thought he should be. He was waving his arms.

I rolled down my window and he pointed behind me.

"You left your gas cap off."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

He smiled and turned to go back inside.

I sighed.

"Babe," (My wife was in the car) "I gotta go talk to that guy."

So I went back in the store.

There was only one person in the store and he was on the opposite side. I was thankful for that.

I extended a hand, which the old man shook.

"I know this might seem awkward, but I'm a Christian, and sometimes when I meet certain people I feel like God is all over them."

He wore a hesitant smile.

"Uh huh."

"Anyway, I felt like that with you and was wondering if you could use prayer for anything."

We had a brief, but meaningful, conversation. The other customer soon moved in behind me and waited - listening.

The guy was a believer, active in church, but could use prayer for something he didn't designate.

By the end of the conversation the man had tears in his eyes as he reached for the other customer's items.

I'm not sure what was going on exactly - but I was thankful I went back.

And here's my point:

It seems like often, if I am at all "people aware" that someone will stand out - someone I should approach - show kindness - offer prayer - talk to.

I have to be honest. MOST of the time I walk on past, hoping to get away. But many times when I do that, God says, "go back." If I ignore Him, He'll repeat.

"Go back."

When I obey, it always turns out good. Always.

And I can still remember, with pain, the times I refused and kept going.

My advice is, notice people. And when God says, "go back," pay attention.

He wants to invade people's lives and you are how He works. If you walked on by, go back.