I'm not very good at making conversation with, say, the person next to me on a plane or the person taking care of me at the hair salon.  Maybe it's the function of being surrounded by family most all the time, but I enjoy the little spaces of quiet when they come along.     

Imagine the guilt then, when I get that awkward feeling that I'm supposed to seize the moment and share some divine truth with my captured "friend."  My fellow passenger can't ditch me as we take off any more than my hairdresser can abandon ship midway through my cut.   I should use this to their eternal advantage and give them the spiritual insights that will save them, shouldn't I?

Let me digress to say that I'm not against any of us who consider ourselves Christ-followers sharing what we've found with others.  It's absolutely beautiful when this happens as a overflow of our lives in the right place and the right time.  And the right place and time may even be planned and prepared for, if that fits your personality and gifting.  It could be with a fellow passenger.  I'm not dissing that.

All I want to say is that there are other ways that love and truth and faith can be shared and maybe I'm late to the table but I missed these for many years.

Case in point: my visits to the hair salon in Europe.  The woman who cut my hair every couple of months was into all manner of spiritual pursuits.  She was hungry for connection with the divine, hungry for the assurance that her life mattered and that the material world before her was not all there was.  

Sitting in those strangely intimate hair times, when someone you hardly know is hovering near and running their fingers through your hair, I used to listen to her as she chattered on.  "You have a beautiful blue aura," she would tell me.  "You know, blue means that..."  I can't quite remember what blue means but you get the idea.  Beyond the color observations, she would talk about her conclusions on the meaning of life, the problem of evil, the reason she didn't drink, the way people behave.  

As a well-schooled believer in Christ, I used to feel this knee-jerk reaction welling up inside me to correct my friend.  Her beliefs were, according to me, way out in space and she just needed to be told what's what; to be set straight.

 But as I sat there under my lovely plastic poncho, I felt the Lord telling me to be quiet.  My clear impression was that I was to listen and hush my mouth.   "Fight the urge to be in the right.  Listen  and love this person."

Time after time, I listened and one day I heard something very deep and vulnerable.  My friend was desperate to have a baby and she was deeply distressed to have recently miscarried once again.  This was heart-talk.  Woman to woman, soul to soul.  I told her about the miscarriage I suffered before my 4 kids were born.  I sat with her in the pain of it all.

A couple of days later I dropped by with a card.  In it I told her that I would be praying for her to have a baby.  I would be praying in Jesus' name to have this desire of her heart fulfilled.  She cried.  And she pinned my card to her office wall.

A year later I snuggled her baby and we giggled together at the beauty of her daughter.  Then I moved away from Europe.  I have no idea how she is today.

This is what I know: If I had come on strong with my beliefs my friend would likely never have shared the deep hurt of her heart with me.  And I would not have had the chance to grieve with her and then tell her of my faith in Jesus' power to bring her a baby.  I would not have had the opportunity to see my card pinned to her wall, or to smile knowingly as I held her daughter.

I don't know if my friend has chosen to follow Christ, but I do know that she knows that Jesus is loving and powerful and able to hear prayers and answer them.  I guess I leave her choice in his hands.