Don't Let Fear Ruin Your Sense Of Community

Oftentimes, when I get home from an evening church service, I immediately rush the kiddos inside and start getting everyone ready for bed. I almost never suggest that we take a walk before going inside. By that time, I’m always worn out for the day and ready to relax, kid free until the morning (or until someone cries in the middle of the night).

That’s why, on Wednesday night after service, it was a shock when I suggested out of the blue that we take a short family walk. It was already 8:45pm, the sun was near set, the kids had not had dinner yet, and we were all tired. 

But for some reason, I really wanted to have a family walk. 

We all set out and the boys were so thrilled for this last minute adventure. Maybe a minute into it, different sidewalk paths met and a man was walking our way. Grayson was running ahead of us, every step brought him further from us and closer to this stranger. 

Red flags started going off in my mind and making me feel uncomfortable. Although this man had done nothing wrong, my crazy momma bear side of me was getting images of my sweet child getting picked up and ran off with, so I yelled over to Grayson for him to stop and wait for us, and I started walking quicker towards him. He did stop though, and we all met together at the same time, including this stranger. 

He greeted us and I smiled politely and said hello back. He tried to get Grayson to say hello back, but Grayson was feeling shy so he just buried his face into my leg. Sawyer, on the other hand, excitedly waved and exclaimed, “Hello!” at this man. This made his face break out into a huge grin. 

He reached over and tickled his arm, looked up at me and mentioned that he loved kids and asked what Sawyer’s name was. I answered his question and then started to step away, but right as I was about to start walking, I got this feeling that I needed to say something more. I looked ahead to Javi and Grayson, who had continued the walk without Sawyer and I. I figured I could catch up in a moment, I just needed to say one more thing then I could politely continue on. 

I asked him if he had any kids at home, since he seemed to do so well with them. 

And then, just like that, our entire conversation shifted and I was no longer on momma bear alert. 

This man told me that he had a son, but that he passed away from leukemia. That he was 10 years old and him and his wife were coming upon the 2 year anniversary of his death in just a few weeks. That he wasn’t struggling with it anymore because he knows his son isn’t in pain anymore, but that he never goes a day without thinking of him and missing him. That when he sees kiddos out playing and having fun with their families, like we were doing, it made him happy to see parents not wasting their time with their children. That he would give anything to be able to take a walk with his son again. 

This momma about bawled right then and there.

In the time that we talked, he showed me a picture of his son, told me about what his son struggled with before passing, and about how it hurts him to see parents not understanding the blessing that their kids are. He mentioned that he doesn’t always share with strangers that he had a kid, not because he won’t talk about him but because the topic doesn’t come up. Because of that, he told me he has been told by parents that him and his wife were “lucky” to not have children since they can do whatever they want, when they want. He told me about how his heart breaks when people say that because he would give anything to be “bothered”, as those parents put it, by his son again. 

He reminded me to enjoy my kids, even on the tough days. He reminded me to see my boys for the blessing that they were, and to never take a moment for granted like he use to. He reminded me to always stop and take moments like we were that night, to take family walks, to go outside and play, to read books and talk about each day. 

His story reminded me that I’m not promised any set amount of days with my children. 

In the time that we were talking, Javi and Grayson had already made a lap. The man thanked me for listening to his story, said that he appreciated me listening, and then we said our goodbyes and parted ways. But throughout dinner and the rest of the night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him and our encounter. I fully believe that God led me to want to talk a walk so that our paths would cross. 

My first instinct when I saw him was fear of something bad happening. He didn’t look suspicious, he didn’t act suspicious, and I had no prior knowledge of him. He was just somebody in our apartment complex out walking. I have learned to fear strangers though, especially when my children are a part of the equation. I never wanted to turn that encounter into a conversation, but instead I just wanted to smile and move on with my family. But once he started talking, I wanted to keep listening. It seemed to help him to talk about it, and it helped me to remember that I’m not promised any amount of time with my children. 

Had I kept walking out of fear, I would have been passing by a blessing for the both of us. 

Use your common sense and mommy intuition, of course, but also follow the Holy Spirit. Don’t let fear turn you away from meeting new people. The world isn’t always this scary place where everyone is out to get you. It’s a place that is full of broken and hurting people, aching to find some sort of healing and comfort. Their main source of comfort is only going to come from God, but God can use you if you are willing to be a listening ear. 

The next time you are out and about, try to take the time to talk to someone. 

Get to know their story. 

When the chance arises, share yours. 

That’s what being a part of a “village” is all about.