Armed with chicken salad sandwiches and some sunflowers, we approached a couple sitting on a bench in the middle of a public park in downtown Athens, Greece. Our goal of the day was to pass out sandwiches to people who might need them, and use that to have some good conversations and talk about Jesus. Since last month was our ATL month, it meant we had no set ministry, and did whatever we felt the Lord calling us to do.
They were sitting at a distance from the rest, as if to avoid the smoke and loud arguments coming from the makeshift tent neighborhood. Everyone in the park looked to be homeless or refugees, and all seemed to be high on something. The two on the bench seemed an unlikely couple, one looking much older than the other. We began the conversation by saying hello, and offering the woman one of the sunflowers. Looking skeptical, she refused, but the man next to her took it. We introduced ourselves, and asked where they were from. Instead of answering our question, the woman asked what we wanted, and what we were doing there. We explained that we didn’t have an agenda, we were just there to spread some love and flowers. She seemed surprised that we weren’t with an organization, or trying to tell her how drugs are bad. She began telling us about her experiences with organizations and trying rehab, and saying that she felt hopeless and couldn’t get out of drugs, even if she tried. As she continued on, sometimes incoherently, what became apparent was how she felt that she had been mistreated by people, and the despair she felt about her situation. She had experienced people coming through, pointing out all her problems, and trying to fix here – none of which had ever worked. Instead, she was left feeling worthless and broken.
We asked where she found hope and joy. She mumbled for a minute, and I wasn’t really sure if she was talking to us. Then she pointed at a tattoo she had on her upper arm. It looked like it was supposed to be a constellation. She said that the stars depicted twelve ancient Greek gods, and each of them provided something different in her life. She believed in a god, but didn’t see the purpose in religion. Religion had never worked for her, so why be attached to something that gave nothing in return. However, she admitted that she still had no hope, even with believing in these other twelve gods.
At this point in the conversation, a man walked up us and began talking to the couple. After a minute, he walked away, and left a baggie of white crystals with the man on the bench. These, he put into a clear glass pipe, and used a lighter to melt. Looking up, he asked what we called this in English, and not knowing exactly what drug it was, we made a few guesses. Apparently guessing wrong, he said “here, we call this Crystal Meth. Would you like some?” Thanking him for his generosity, we politely declined.
Interrupted by this interaction, it was difficult to get the conversation back to where we left off. Although the woman was too distracted to continue talking on that topic, she repeated over and over how happy she was that we would take the time to talk to her, and how much she appreciated that we didn’t judge them. She expressed gratitude for the joy that our sunflowers and conversation had brought her. We said our goodbyes, and walked away as the couple began inhaling the fumes of the pipe.
We went back to this park several times after this, but never saw this couple again.
What we did that afternoon wasn’t special, or really did anything to impact them. It was just talking to people, but even that seemed to touch this woman, and make her day better. It made me think more about how I live my life. Am I truly seeing people, not just their outward appearance? Do I make others feel judged and condemned, or do I show them the love of Christ?
On the Race, it’s easy to try to separate times for “ministry” and personal time. Like when I’m at a coffee shop, trying to sit by myself and have some alone time, and someone approaches me. It’s so easy to ignore them or brush them off, just so I can get back to my quiet time. As bad as this sounds, I’m so guilty of this. (Side note… the only alone time we get on the Race is an extravagant 15 minute shower, or taking an extra minute in the bathroom – so sitting in a coffee shop and not talking to people counts as alone time – and for an introvert, this is precious.) Situations like this could be much different. Some of my teammates have been a strong example of using every opportunity to talk to people, and to share about their love for Christ. This includes the lady working the checkout counter at the local grocery store, or the barista at our favorite coffee shop. As a nurse, I often brush off my patients and cut short conversations because I have too much to do, or another patient to see. This interaction, and so many others, convicted me of spending my time too selfishly, and not prioritizing others the way that I should. Sometimes just spending a little extra time and talking to a total stranger can change a life, or even just make their day a little brighter.
