A few years ago in Greece, I met a young man who significantly impacted my life. Whenever I saw him, his first question was always, “How can I pray for you?”

His name was Makis (mah-kees). Makis was a young Greek man, a simple man. Unsophisticated, naive, with child-like innocence.

I’ll never forget the first time I met him.

As I walked into his apartment, the smell of death filled my nostrils. I’d read about the stench of gangrene, of dying flesh, but I’d never experienced it.

Makis suffered from diabetes but had stopped taking his medication, and a cut on his foot had developed into gangrene. The infection resulted in the amputation of Makis’ toes and part of his foot. The wound had not been properly closed and would require intensive care.

A nurse at our church recruited several ladies to help clean and bandage Makis’ foot once he returned home. The first day I went to see Makis, the nurse came along so she could teach me how to take care of the wound.

Makis spoke excellent English and immediately began asking me questions about my life, family, and my travels. I confess I was so worried about gagging and throwing up while working on the ugly wound; I had trouble following the conversation.

Then right in the middle of this painful procedure, Makis spoke up and asked me a question.

“How can I pray for you today?”

In the midst of my fumbling, and probably painful attempt to help him, Makis asked how he could pray for me. This simple, humble man, whom himself needed prayers for healing, looked beyond his suffering to minister to me.

I shared my prayer request with Makis, and then we prayed together.

Even today, this scene brings tears to my eyes.

Fortunately for Makis, he only had to tolerate my painful ministrations a couple more times. But each time, one of his first questions was “How can I pray for you?” Later, I would run into him on the street, and he always repeated the same question.

My experience with Makis taught me two valuable lessons. First, I learned from Makis’ example that when I am experiencing suffering or trials, one of the best things I can do is pray for others. It takes my mind off of my circumstances and turns my focus back to God.

Secondly, Makis reminded me of the value of simplicity. Child-like Makis had never memorized the Roman Road or been through an Evangelism Explosion course. He simply took advantage of daily opportunities to take a genuine interest in others. Makis would ask how he could pray for them, opening the way to share about God’s love.

Through the years, I’ve noticed a transition in my Christian walk. As a young Christian, I spent lots of time learning a programmed way to share my faith. I studied, memorized, and worked hard to improve my knowledge and skills so I could share about God’s love with others.

But as I’ve matured, I’ve come to realize simpler is often better. The sharing of our faith and the encouragement of others should not be a difficult task. It should be simple and natural.

As simple as asking, “How can I pray for you today?”