Talking to strangers...

As children, we're always told not to speak to strangers. In general, this is pretty good advice for kids. Just turn on the evening news, and it won't take long to realize why this is good advice. Kids don't have enough life experience to be able to sort out safe situations from threatening ones. Unfortunately, too many of us have carried this lesson with us into adulthood. "Don't talk to strangers." Sometimes it's out of a subconscious (or conscious) concern for our safety, sometimes it's to preserve our comfort zones, but maybe even more often, we see it as a public service. "They don't want to be bothered by me..." 

I could go off on a tangent here about how my generation will publish the most intimate (and inane) details of our lives on the internet for countless unknown strangers to see, but avoids talking to strangers in person at all costs.

But when it really comes right down to it, we are too preoccupied with ourselves. I am too preoccupied with myself. I'm either thinking so highly of myself that I don't want to be bothered by someone else, or I'm thinking so low of myself that I'm afraid of bothering someone else. In so isolating myself, I miss out on the incredible (and sometimes messy) joy of sharing with, learning from, encouraging, and being encouraged by those around me.

This is something we learned a lot about in Chicago with Sunshine Gospel Ministries. We rode the El Train from one end of the city to the other, with no other goal than to strike up conversations with strangers. Both times I've been, it's been an eye-opening experience. But both times, I've returned to Knoxville and retreated right back into my self-insulated bubble.

Last night, however, as I sat in my favorite coffee shop in Knoxville, I was lobbed a slow pitch...and I finally swung. I take no pride in this whatsoever. As you'll soon see, a 3rd grade T-ball pitcher could have put more zing on his fastball than this.

I was sitting in my normal, comfy chair, drinking Remedy's delicious Intelligentsia coffee, reading my book...and I was content. There was no one sitting around me. All was quiet. Just me and my book. Then four guys walked in, all dressed nicely, they ordered, and proceeded to occupy the couch and 2 chairs on either side of where I sat. They were clearly all together, and as they began discussing the binders and books they each had, it was clear they were with some sort of Christian group.

I kept hearing "Bible study" and various theological terms bouncing back and forth. I even noticed one of them drawing out the "cross diagram" that I like to use when trying to explain gospel-centered sanctification. On one hand, I was intrigued, but on the other, slightly annoyed. After all, I'm an RUF intern. I deal with this stuff all day. I was just wanting to get some enjoyable, non-theological reading done, quietly, in my favorite coffee shop, but I found myself in the middle of a theological discussion.

Thankfully (I guess), I have an uncanny knack for concentrating on reading even when there are distractions, so I finished a couple more chapters, and then I decided to head out. But before I got up, I realized (almost dutifully) that I really didn't have a reason not to talk to them. I had managed to ignore them for a good 45 minutes already. I turned and asked, "So...where are you all from?"

So as you can see, if I didn't swing here, I might as well put away my bat, buy some popcorn, and go sit in the stands. My coffee shop, my chair, fellow believers, ministry-minded fellow believers, and for goodness sake, they were even using the same diagrams.

I found out they were college students from South Carolina and Florida (one who had even grown up in Destin...right down the road from my hometown). They were in Pigeon Forge for the summer doing a leadership training program with the Navigators, another college ministry like RUF that's on many, many campuses across the country. They were very engaging and told me about their program, and then they kept asking about me. "Wait a second," I think to myself, "I'm the 'ministry staff' person here. I'm the one who initiated this conversation [note false pride here.] I'm supposed to be asking about your life and encouraging you."


Well...as they continued to ask, I shared with them our situation in RUF at Tennessee next year, how we wouldn't have a campus minister, and how it would be my co-intern and I leading things. They asked many more questions, offered encouraging stories of similar situations they had heard of, and then...they asked if they could pray with me.

"What?" I'm thinking, "Right here in the coffee shop?"

"Sure, that'd be great." I said.

One of them then led us in prayer. It was a simple prayer, but sincere. He thanked God that we had met, and he prayed for me, our students, our ministry, and our campus in this upcoming year. He prayed for encouragement for me, and he prayed for God's continued work on UT's campus through RUF. He finished, we all said amen, we shook hands, I thanked them, and I left.

It was a simple encounter. So very simple. It was a simple conversation, and a simple prayer. I decided to speak to them, seeing myself as the instigator...the offerer of encouragement if there was any encouragement to be offered. Instead, these students ministered to me and encouraged me with their concern and love for a stranger, and their desire to pray with and for me and our RUF ministry at UT. It was really powerful, and it left an impact on me.

God's working on my heart, slowly chipping away the hard, self-protective exterior, and teaching me what it means to love. I don't remember their names, but God used these Navigator guys from Florida and South Carolina to teach me about not just talking to strangers, but loving strangers.