Warriors Among Us

 

I recently had my first manicure-pedicure nail salon experience.

I climbed in the car, feeling pampered and refreshed. “I got to hear part of one lady’s story and we talked about God.” I told my husband. “I wonder if that is a typical nail salon experience.”

He started shaking his head before I finished my sentence. “Erin, nobody has experiences like yours.”

Stephen shakes his head at me. A lot. Even after being married to me for 23 years, there are many areas where he can’t figure out why I do the things I do. And talking to strangers is at the top of the list.

I talk to strangers. A lot.  I tell my kids not to, but I am a total hypocrite when it comes to this.

Conversations with strangers are always, always interesting. One time I met a lady who told me about her former life hundreds of years ago. I live in the deep South, so I’d never met anyone who actually believed they were reincarnated. See? Interesting.

Now, there was that one conversation on the adult diaper aisle that was more interesting than I bargained for. I now avoid that aisle at all cost, and if I can’t, I definitely avoid making eye contact with anyone on that aisle.

I’ve made great friends by talking to strangers. I met my friend Kim at a writer’s group meeting over 20 years ago. She and I hit it off so well I took her home for supper and we’ve been friends ever since. She is one of the many Hope Warriors in my life.

I also once asked Maritza, who was a Kroger cashier at the time, to help me become more fluent in Spanish. She asked if I would help her children with English. Another friendship was born, along with some pretty humorous cross-cultural experiences. To this day Stephen does not trust me to translate anything in Spanish. Just because I might have tricked him into eating a cow tongue taco that one time.

We often underestimate the power of a smile or the timeliness of an encouraging word.  I know their power because I have been blessed many times by the words of a total stranger. (Except for that diaper aisle convo.)

Days after my second miscarriage, the words of a stranger comforted me as I stood in the Walmart pharmacy. After 9 years of marriage, and years of waiting for a baby, I was absolutely heartbroken. This kind lady wasn’t afraid of the tears streaming down my face  as she offered words of comfort and shared her own miscarriage experience with me. In those few moments she let me know I wasn’t alone.

A few years later my daughter had a seizure while we were shopping. A stranger prayed over her and stayed with me until the ambulance arrived.

One day at the eye doctor, one of the technicians began telling me about losing her father unexpectedly. Even as she spoke of her sorrow, her faith in God and in His care shone clearly. Within a few moments we were both praising God.

Then there was the lady in the grocery store who saw my numb, tired look as my kids ran in circles around my grocery cart. Anderson was holding a giant pack of toilet paper on his head pretending to be some kind of animal. She cautiously leaned toward me and said “It does get better.”

These interchanges happened in the middle of  busy settings and some lasted only a few minutes. But they have been important over the course of my life.  They happened because a stranger reached out of their world and entered mine for just a second to offer encouragement, comfort, or just plain kindness.

I have met so many hope warriors by talking to strangers. People who are fighting for hope, believing that things can change, and clinging to the God who holds them up. People who have encouraged me to trust God’s hand, who reminded me of God’s love toward me even when I’ve felt like I was sitting in the darkness.

Our hearts crave hope. We were made for hope because we were created by the God of hope. Sometimes we forget that, sometimes our hope wavers, and it takes the kindness of a stranger to remind us of the truth. And other times, we have the privilege of stretching out a hand to others to say “You are not alone. Hope is worth fighting for!”

Stephen was with me one day in Subway when a woman came up to me and said  “You look like a person who prays. Will you pray for me? Everything in my life is going wrong.” She sat down with us for a few minutes. We listened to her story and offered her words of truth. I tried to remind her that her mistakes can be forgiven and that God’s grace offers each one of us another chance.

As she walked away, Stephen looked at me and, of course, shook his head. My sweet husband can keep shaking his head until all his hair turns grey. I’ll keep looking for Hope Warriors among us.

Have you ever been blessed by the words of a stranger? I’d love to hear about it!