Everyone’s parents tell them growing up that they shouldn’t talk to strangers. I remember one time I was sitting watching my sister’s soccer game when I was 5 or 6. Little Kristie loved talking and teaching people random information, even at such an early age. So naturally, she wandered over to a couple of people and started to chat them up. She thought nothing wrong with this; the people were nice to her and she wasn’t afraid for any reason. However, her father did not feel the same way. He pulled her aside and reprimanded her. “Don’t talk to strangers,” he warned. She was confused. If I can’t talk to strangers, how will I meet anyone? Nevertheless, she respected her father and didn’t talk to strangers anymore. Thus, the social butterfly turned into an awkward caterpillar.
That’s how I lived my life, guys. I wasn’t really afraid to talk to strangers, but I was subconsciously heeding my father’s warning. He meant well, don’t get me wrong. He was trying to protect me from an insane world where I could have been snatched at any moment. He didn’t want me to easily trust those around me since I could get hurt. But now I look back and think of all the people I wanted to meet and get to know but never did.
The two months I’ve spent on the race have forced me to talk to strangers. I’ve walked up to random people on the streets, entered homes unannounced, and sat down at the dinner table with people I’d never met before. It’s weird, scary, and countercultural. But it’s also awesome. I’ve made friendships that have crossed borders. I’ve hummed along with a man’s violin playing a song by Frank Sinatra. I’ve prayed over and comforted an 82 year old woman whose husband, son, and daughter have all passed away. I’ve had a woman offer her son to me for marriage. (Don’t worry mom and dad, I said no.) You never really know what is going to happen in a conversation unless you take that step and speak.
You can do this at home, too. If you think that the people abroad are more friendly and receptive to strangers, you’re wrong. It’s a challenge for everyone to step outside of that comfortable bubble they have made for themselves. My personal bubble is like a warm bubble bath and smells like coffee. I don’t want to leave it for some unknown space. But when I step out of mine and into another person’s, I can smell bread, hear the music of a violin, and feel the softness of a grandmother’s knit blanket. I get to experience a little bit more of who God is through other people.
I’m not necessarily telling you to walk up to people on the street and start a random conversation. (That is still so hard for me to do.) It’s something you can work towards. But what if you took that step? What if you stepped out of that bubble you surrounded yourself in and abandoned your fear for two seconds? What if you said, “Hi,” to the man in front of you in line at the grocery store? What if you thanked your waitress by name? What if you listened to the prodding God laid on your heart to share the Gospel with the woman stirring her tea while reading a book at the cafe? Only you can find out.
