On seeing the strangers around us

I remember a moment, a time in the past when every stranger I encountered was a recognized invitation.

I had trained my eye to see them.

I ordered ice cream at a shop around the corner from a campus that had become like a piece of heaven on earth for me.

My sister was there with me.

After placing my order she stood next to me and casually asked, “Do you know her?” referring to the girl who had just taken our order at the counter.

I was caught off guard, “No, why do you ask?”

She responded, “Because you were so friendly, I thought you must know her or something?”

I laughed a little and shrugged.

I had trained myself to see strangers as people—as invitations to care for them and share with them about the goodness of God.

I have lost the art today.

Yesterday I pull open my morning reading in the book of Exodus again.

The people are commanded to remember. Moses makes a point of retelling the wondrous works that God did to his father-in-law who traveled to see him.

The result of Moses and all of the stories He told? His father-in-law trusts in God and declares that he now sees that there is only one God who is worthy.

I think to myself, perhaps we have over complicated it all.

We are commanded to go and tell —to preach the Gospel.
We shutter and hold back just like Moses did when God first commanded Him to go talk with Pharaoh.

We are overwhelmed by what we imagine this to be.

Yet, when we read about Moses’ encounter with his Father-in-law, we see that this was not something he even gave hesitation or thought to.

The story of God’s goodness in His life was personal, and it came spilling out of him through regular conversation.

The questions I ask myself then:

Is God’s goodness evidenced in my life?
Do I notice it daily?
Do I run to tell others about it?

Our job is simple—set our gaze upon a God who is always working wonders and then tell the world what you see.

Your family members. The lady at the ice cream shop. The friend you meet for coffee.

They all need to hear of your encounter with God’s goodness today.

We deprive the world of beauty and truth when we are not faithfully noticing the goodness of God in our lives.

Yesterday I sat next to a woman outside of a zoo exhibit.
She started a conversation with me, and I found myself trying to end it because I didn’t particularly feel like a conversation with a stranger just then.

I didn’t see her as an invitation. I didn’t see her as a potential lost soul in need of an encounter with God’s goodness.

I was successful in ending the conversation politely, as we usually are.

We sat in silenced and I stared at the bubbling fountain in front of us. I felt the conviction, the lack of care.

I turned to her and asked the question, “So, where are you from?”
She eagerly answered and we chatted awhile longer.

I wondered later in the day, how many times we, the light in the darkness, shut down and walk away from our opportunities to simply connect with the lost.

I have lost my art of seeing people rightly, but I will work to gain it back.

I must simply tell them of the goodness that I daily experience.
I must simply let it overflow out of my life.

Oh, what a different world we might have if we made this our pursuit.