Our society is obsessed with safety. We want to keep ourselves, our children and our world as safe as possible. And so we develop technologies and techniques to help us feel like we are taking the minimum amount of risk. For instance, our cars are equipped with airbags and shoulder harnesses. Our children sit in car or booster seats until they are reaching adolescence. Many children play inside because they don't feel safe playing outdoors. And most of us have stopped talking to strangers... it is as if we believe that the only people we can trust are the ones we know.
I don't think that's the way it's supposed to be. I like talking to people in airports and grocery stores... the more anonymous, the better. And while many look at me like I am little bit crazy, I'm always amazed at the generous reaction that some people have to these spontaneous offers of community. I had a great conversation with a woman in the security line at the airport in February. It went something like this... I smiled... she smiled... I made a comment about how much I was looking forward to the coming spring. She remarked that we still had a lot of winter left to live (she was right). I had watched her say goodbye to a family at the security entrance, so I asked, "Leaving home or going home?" She talked about how much fun she had with her daughter's family. Then the tables turned. "How about you? Going home or someplace else." I replied, "I'm going to help out with my mother-in-law who has just entered hospice care at home." "Oh," she said. "I did that with my mom. I hope it's a wonderful experience for you because it was for me." 'I"m sure it will be," I said. "I love her very much." "I'll keep you in my prayers," she said. And we walked on our way to take off our coats and scarves and shoes for the waiting officials.
We had made a connection... experienced a little bit of community. What started as an inconsequential encounter left an impression on me. But it took a tiny risk to make that connection possible. And since then, I've thought a lot about what makes me willing to risk rejection from perfect strangers. Here are some of the things that have given me the courage to step out in faith to make a stranger a friend.
First, my mom can make friends with anyone, at the drop of a hat, so I think I get it honestly. Shawn's mom was exactly the same way. The cashiers and baggers at her grocery store even came to her funeral. It might be in my DNA but it's also been modeled to me by the people who are important in my life. Second, somewhere along the way, I got taught that if people don't respond it's not because they are rejecting me personally. Talking to me might be outside their comfort zone, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. Third, I have seen how these little conversations have led to actual friendships. As a military spouse and a pastor, I often talk with people who may or may not know who I am, but being approachable and willing to say "Hi" and smile can go a long way toward beginning a lifelong friendship. And fourth, I think that this is the what Paul was talking about when he wrote in 1 Thessalonians 1:2-3. We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. (NIV)
This willingness to take the risk of friendship, service and even rejection are all a part of my call as a disciple of Jesus Christ. We often think it's the grand gestures that make the biggest difference. But it's the small steps that help us practice living our faith everyday. And if we practice small risks on a daily basis, we'll be ready to step out in faith when the big risks come, prompted by love and inspired by hope in the one who calls us to this crazy, risky life. In those two weeks that followed my last trip to Michigan, I thought of this stranger, this new friend, praying for me and for our family, and it gave me peace. Her smile and her prayers remind me that if we are not willing to take the risk, we will miss out on the many blessings in store for us along the way.
When we left North Dakota, I cried all the way to the Minnesota/Wisconsin border. My husband finally said, "Nobody cries this hard when they leave North Dakota." And when I told him I was sad to leave all of my friends, he said, "Maybe at this next place you shouldn't make so many friends." (Ten years later he can honestly say I looked at him as if he had two heads.) I replied, "Look, you have two choices. I can make new friends and be sad to leave, or not make any friends and be miserable all the time." "Are those my only two choices?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. He just shook his head, thinking he had come up with the perfect solution, but not understanding that it just wasn't who I am.
Many of my friends are preparing to go to new assignments and appointments this summer. Others will stay where they are, but people they love will leave. There are often tears in the midst of the transition, and all of us wonder if taking the friendship risk and having to say goodbye are worth all of the strain and pain. And after 10 Air Force moves and serving 4 ministry locations, I can say without hesitation, yes it is.
So go with God... and know that this life is a risky business... and we are not alone.
Peace, Deb
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