A Grease Rack Prayer
A Grease Rack Prayer
By Hal Haralson
I pulled into the Texaco station on Fredericksburg road at Wonderland Shopping Center in San Antonio.
I was in a hurry.
My father had called from Abilene to tell me he had a listing on a 7,000 acre farm in the valley. He wanted me to help him find a buyer.
Since I was selling farms and ranches for the Guy Chipman Company (a San Antonio real estate firm), this was exciting.
This sale would involve millions of dollars and I`d get a share of it.
As I filled my car with gas, the owner came out to talk.
I had traded at Hal Taylor`s Texaco for some time and knew Hal well. He was a burly ex-marine, with tatoos of hula girls on his arms.
His language was sprinkled with profanity. He was comfortable around me even though I had approached him several times about his relationship to God.
"Never had time for that God stuff. My wife and kids go, but it`s not for me."
I had invited him to go with us to Trinity Baptist church and hear Buckner Fanning, also, an ex-marine. Hal was impressed with the idea of an ex-marine preacher, but always put me off.
"Where you headed? You seem to be in a hurry."
I told Hal about the farm near Harlingen.
"That sounds great. I hope it works out for you. Could I talk to you for a minute?"
I started to say I`ll get with you when I return from the valley, but something about the tone of his voice made me feel I should listen.
We went over to the grease rack. Hal seemed to want privacy.
Hal blurted out, "You know what you told me the other day, about God loving me and wanting me to be his child?"
"I don`t understand how God could love me with my drinking, bad language, and besides, I never go to church."
"Hal, this acceptance of God`s love doesn`t depend on what kind of man you are. It depends on your willingness to invite Jesus Christ to come into your life and give your life to him."
"You see, Jesus Christ died to pay for your sins. You have to believe that and trust yourself to him."
"Okay," Hal replied, "I`ve been thinking about this a lot the last few days. How do I do it?"
"All right, Hal, you pray after me."
"Dear God, I know I`m a sinner. I believe Christ died for my sins. I believe you love me. I know I can`t change my life -I tried that. Please come into my life, forgive my sin, and accept me as one of your children."
There were tears in Hal Taylor`s eyes when I looked up. big ex-marine, in a very uncharacteristic move, gave me a bear hug and thanked me.
We bowed again and thanked God for Hal Taylor`s new life.
"Gotta go, Hal. I`ll talk with you when I get back. I want to introduce you to Buckner. You ex-marines will like each other.
Things moved quickly in the Valley (Harlingen). My father and I operated out of our motel room and were talking millions of dollars and showing the ranch to prospective buyers.
A phone call from Judy brought all this to a screeching halt.
There was a robbery at Hal Taylor`s station. He was shot in the head and was in a coma. He was not expected to live.
I returned to Austin in three days and went to the hospital where I met Hal`s wife. I told her about the prayer at the grease rack.
"Could you come to my home and tell Hal`s mother and father and our children about the grease rack prayer?"
"Of course," I replied and a time was set.
Hal`s father was an elderly man, a cab driver from Kerrville. When I recounted my conversation with Hal, he stated, "That`s the answer to 40 years of prayer."
Hal never came out of the coma. The family asked me to assist Buckner Fanning with the funeral and I told this story. Then, and now, Hal Taylor in life and in death shares his faith in God.
I`m thankful I wasn`t in too big a hurry to listen to Hal by the grease rack.
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