“I’ve encountered so many beautiful stories simply from getting to know people on the streets.”

Andrew Yakovlev, Harlem

In the midst of a discouraging job search, Andrew began praying with his neighbors and seeing God in ways he didn’t expect.

I started going to the prayer room out of desperation. I was running out of resources and nothing made sense. I had left my job in investment banking to pursue a career in computer programming, but after bombing three interviews, I wasn’t sure if I was on the right path. I needed a breakthrough so badly.

When the recruitment season kicked off in January, I was applying for jobs and experiencing so much anxiety any time I sat down to code. When I shared my anxieties with my friend Christen, she recommended going to the prayer room at Church of the City, explaining how God used prayer to unwind different complexities in her life and help her figure things out. I had gone to the prayer room once or twice in the fall and thought it was powerful to pray alongside other people seeking God, so in January, I made it a point to go at least three times a week. After just two days, I started experiencing consistent peace. I’d go to the prayer room and then come home to study and code. Some of the best code I’ve ever written was after praying.

One day when I was coming home from the prayer room in early February, I saw Henry* sitting outside of the subway station. I knew who he was, but he didn’t know me. He lives in my building — in Section 8 housing — and always sits right outside of the subway on a plastic box. I first saw him in the summer of 2019, when I moved to Harlem, and it looked like he was dealing drugs. I thought, Well, that doesn’t look right. Maybe I should call the police, but I figured calling the police wouldn’t help in the long run. I see a lot of drug and alcohol problems in the neighborhood — open-container drinking during the day or people passed out or suffering seizures from overdose. It’s definitely a problem here. And sure, I could call the police to force them away from substances, but that won’t change their heart or solve the problem. That won’t fill the emptiness with anything meaningful.

So when I approached Henry that day, I didn’t accuse him of anything; I just thought prayer would be a better response than calling the police. I said, “Hey, I’ve seen you around here. It looks like you know a lot of people in the neighborhood. Would you mind if I pray with you?” And he said, “Sure, let’s pray.” So we prayed for financial matters, for health, and for the Lord’s will to be done. It was a very gloomy February day, but as soon as I asked to pray with him, the skies opened up and the light shone down on us. I mean, it was there briefly, but as soon as I started praying, the clouds opened up. It was truly an amazing moment.

Over time, I’ve gotten to know Henry a bit better. He’s told me about his personal life and his distant relationship with his son — we pray for that too. There’s clearly a void that needs to be filled, and I think prayer has been helpful. It gives both of us hope.

Henry has lived in West Harlem all his life, so different folks come to him looking for answers. Once, as I was on my way to the store, Henry flagged me down on the street. He was speaking with a woman who was clearly in distress, so I said, “Why don’t we all pray together?” The woman asked if I would put my hand on her shoulder, and after we prayed, she said she felt the peace of God.

But there are also times when I don’t want to pray. Sometimes I’m lazy or in a hurry or not feeling well. But I’ll see Henry and he’ll see me, and I can’t just walk by. Other times, I’m too discouraged to pray, and I’ll tell Henry, “Look, I just can’t do this prayer right now. I’m sorry.” And he understands.

Sometimes Henry and I simply cry out to God together. For example, the pandemic hit after I made it to the final round of interviews with JP Morgan, and the job program was cancelled. I was so discouraged and needed money. Around that time, Henry was also having financial struggles, so I said, “Henry, let’s just cry out to God together.” And we did. I guess the strength to pray comes in the moment, even when I don’t feel it.

It can be hard to go before God, especially after I’ve stumbled into sin or feel ashamed of something I’ve done. But we can always come into the presence of Jesus. We can bring all of our shame and guilt to Jesus and He’ll take all of it. Somebody once told me that we tend to exclude ourselves from the presence of God more than He would want us to exclude ourselves. So even when I feel weak or inadequate, I cry out to God.

To this day, my job situation remains pretty bleak. But even though this time has been dry on the job front, it’s been fruitful on the prayer front. In my time of deepest desperation and need, God continues to provide for me financially and to show up in mundane situations. I’ve encountered so many beautiful stories simply from getting to know people on the streets. I’m thankful to be able to pray with my neighbors who need God just as badly as I do.

*Henry’s name has been changed to protect his identity.