Conversation: On the Park Strip, Paul Wallis offers partnership in prayer

On Thursday afternoon, Paul Wallis sat at a folding table on the Delaney Park Strip by himself, as he often does. Flanked by two empty chairs, he read a book in the sunshine and awaited encounters that might come his way, summoned by his cardboard sign that invited passers-by: "Come pray."

This is the second summer Wallis has set up his simple station in the shadow of downtown Anchorage office buildings, he said. Around his spot on the city's front lawn near H Street, residents pass in all directions. He said his aim is not to get in their way. He just makes himself available, whether a person wants to engage in a long spiritual discussion, a brief prayer or merely to exchange a greeting. I stopped to ask Wallis what he has to offer, what motivated this mission and how Anchorage has reacted to him.

Do you find yourself like in a counseling sort of position, or is it strictly "Let's pray together"?

Here, it's whatever people need. … I felt (God) calling me out here just to be with people, and so I came out not really fully understanding what it was he was looking for. And it took me a little while. Finally, he spoke to me and said, "Just stop. Just sit down and be still. I'll bring 'em to you. Don't walk around. You don't have to get in people's faces. Just sit down, and they'll come."

And they do. He brings me people who come to pray for themselves and for others. He's brought me people who came here to pray for me. Sometimes people come (at) 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Sometimes nobody comes at all. Sometimes people come around just to tell me why I shouldn't be here.

No kidding? So you get all kinds of reactions.

Well, yeah, and that's not unusual. … And for whatever reason, some people do feel compelled to come over here and really just, whether it's bitterness from past bad experience or whatever, come over and share their opinion, too, that this is hokum or we shouldn't be out here or whatever like that. But a lot of people stop by that just really need to talk and need to pray.

Some people aren't even really ardent believers or churchgoers, but they see the sign and something in them senses the need to come over and do it. … Like a guy came by yesterday and he said, "I really got to go," but he said, "I just want to stop. I just want you to pray for me real quick before I go. I got to go." So (I said), "That's fine. What's your name? What are we praying about?" And that's it. We prayed. He got up. We had a little hug and he just took off. Sometimes it's like that. Sometimes, I've sat and talked for an hour with people here. Just depends on what they need.

What have been the most rewarding moments over the last couple summers? Are there any that stand out?

You know, I try not to live on mountaintop experiences, because God tells us not to do that. He doesn't want you to live on the mountaintop experience. He wants you to live day to day. And the day-to-day life of a follower of Christ is not going to be constantly in the mountaintops. …

There's going to be days, like I said, where people don't even come by. And that's fine. I still have study to do. There's still things he has for me to do even if nobody stops by here for prayer. So, I would say the most rewarding experience is just having heard clarity of his will in my life for this…

Boy, it was a tremendous overcoming for me to come out here and just start talking to people and asking.

It wasn't in your nature to…

Again, I'm not timid about sharing my faith, but street evangelism is not something I've done a lot of. I've evangelized, and I would say I'm an evangelistic opportunist. So people I work with, people I work around, people that I hang out with or whatever, yeah, I'll evangelize. But no, I have not been a big street corner evangelist. … Being out on the Park Strip is not something that I ever envisioned doing. … That's been the biggest excitement is just that it's happened.

Would you say that, from your spot right here, you've learned anything about the city of Anchorage and its people?

Oh, yeah, yeah I have. I've learned that the people here are just as desperate and thirsty as anyplace I've ever been in my life. There's a spiritual thirst here, and people sometimes don't even recognize that they have that thirst until they come across something like this. …

You know what I would say 80 percent of the response to this table is? People don't even make eye contact. When somebody's walking down one of these trails and I say, "Good afternoon. How're you doing today," 80 percent of the time they won't even look at me. Even if they do, they won't even say anything, not even the courteous "Hey, pretty good. How are you?" That's 80 percent of the people, I would say. And you know what? There's 20 percent, though, that when they walk by they go, "Hey, how are you? You're doing pretty good. I'm doing pretty good too." And they leave here and they say to themselves, "Hmm. What's going on there?" It gets stuck in their brain.

Everybody's not going to respond immediately. And the other thing is, I'm not supposed to know. The Lord tells me that his word never, ever goes out and returns void. But it doesn't tell me that I'm always going to be the beneficiary of the knowledge of what happens. I just have to assume and trust in him that whatever he's got me doing out here, that it's got ramifications for me that are far down the road. I get some frequent fliers, and that's very encouraging. … But you're just not always going to know what kind of reach you have or what kind of touch you have when you're doing what you're told to do. You just do it.