The wind blows wherever it pleases, and you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with chance encounters of the Spirit — we don’t know where He comes from or where He’s going, but sometimes we get to run with Him as He passes.

I wasn’t expecting Him at the time. A large poolside umbrella shielded me somewhat from a brutal Florida sun, but even in the shade the temperature registered well into the 90s. I was the only one lounging around the pool that afternoon … until Aileen, a chatty neighbor, arrived.

“How are you?” she called, arranging a towel across a lounge chair.

“I’m wonderful. This is one of my favorite pastimes.” My parents, retired, spent winters in this condominium community, and my husband and I took advantage of it as a summer vacation spot.

“Yes, isn’t it beautiful?” she added, looking out across the bay.

A few minutes later, Bob (Aileen’s roommate and significant other) and a female friend of theirs joined her. Bob headed straight for the pool. “Ahhh,” he sighed, leaning back on a raft. “This is how God meant us to live.”

My ears perked up, but my eyes stayed on my book. The three then discussed their afternoon schedule. How long should they remain at the pool? Should they rent a video or watch TV tonight?

Meanwhile, my mind had shifted into high gear over the question of how God intends for us to live.

Their discussion turned to music, with Bob favoring country tunes. “I like gospel too,” Aileen said. “Remember, ‘Operator, Give Me Jesus on the Line’?”

“What about ‘Amazing Grace’?” Bob wondered. “We heard that one over and over when Reagan died.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like that ‘wretch’ part,” Aileen frowned.

“I think I psychologically tune that out,” Bob replied, without giving the idea much thought. (Apparently he didn’t like the “wretch part” either.)

My mind raced to articulate a mini-dissertation on sin, human depravity and how we’re really all wretches. We were the only people around the pool — what a great opportunity for a personal Bible lesson. But I bit my tongue. Either my better judgment or the chicken in me told me my words might not go over so well.

Quiet ensued, until a different idea came to me. Aileen walked past to refill her water bottle, and the words came out almost before I had time to think about them. “I hope you’ll pardon me for eavesdropping, but do you know the story behind ‘Amazing Grace’? And why the hymn writer used that word ‘wretch’?”

“No, I don’t,” Aileen said, without any hint of offense taken.

“Would you like to hear it?”

“Why, sure.” She smiled a genuine smile. All three of them looked toward me expectantly.

I told them about John Newton, and how after many years of profligate living and profiteering as a British slave trader, he prayed a foxhole prayer — from a storm-tossed ship in the 18th century.

“And that’s where the word ‘wretch’ came from,” I concluded. “John Newton was overwhelmed by the grace of God who, because of what Jesus Christ did on the cross, would forgive him – truly a wretch – and give him another chance.” I looked up, a little nervous about the reaction I might get. I saw three attentive faces trained on me.

“Thank you for sharing. I never knew that.” Aileen was the first to respond.

Bob asked me to repeat the name of the writer and time period, adding, “You learn something new every day.”

“That was just like sitting in a classroom,” their friend remarked.

“She was a strong woman,” Aileen noted, speaking of Mary Newton. I had told them how Mary, John’s one and only love, had refused to marry him as long as he lived a wicked, ungodly life.

“I agree,” I answered. “It’s also a testament to a woman’s power to influence a man.”

“Now you’re getting personal,” Bob joked from the raft. We shared a healthy laugh, and then quiet prevailed again.

“I’ve prayed prayers like that before,” Bob broke the silence. “God, if You’ll get me outta this, I’ll never do it again.” He seemed to be speaking as much to the air as he was to the three of us. “He did, and I did,” Bob added, somewhat as an afterthought, and with that, the subject was dropped.

Perhaps a more skilled evangelist could have wrung more from this chance encounter, enumerating the Four Spiritual Laws or following up with an invitation to pray the sinner’s prayer. I often don’t know the “best” thing to say. Most times I pray and stumble through. Later I pray that God will do something worthwhile through what transpired.

I do know that the idea about John Newton came to me seemingly out of nowhere. And I know I gave my three poolside acquaintances something new to think about. Chances are I’ll never see Aileen, Bob or their friend again this side of eternity — my parents sold the condo the following spring. But I pray that some spark was transferred from me to them, what C.S. Lewis calls the “good infection.”

The late Mike Yaconelli wrote about “God’s disturbing presence.” You and I, when we’re Spirit-filled believers, carry God’s disturbing presence, the good infection, everywhere we go – the teacher into the classroom, the businessman into the office, and the vacationer to the poolside. And God’s presence will always give people something new to think about, some truth potent enough to dislodge a lie, beam a light on a recess in a heart, or invite a soul to take a closer look. If you know the truth, remember that many walk in darkness unaware. If you’re the only Bible they read, stay open and let a page or two show.