Looking out at Nothing

Staring out the window blackened by the cold night that consumes the Romanian countryside, our traveling companions look at nothing really. Save the random streetlight and train stop that color the scenery there isn’t much to look at besides each other, but that’s not really acceptable. Eric and I are accompanying the new National Director to a city just north of Bucharest.

There are three other people with us in the small cabin, three people whom we’ve never met and probably won’t talk to for the entire trip. The cold weather and the cultural expectations diminish most chances of striking up a meaningful conversation with strangers. Why is that? What is it about culture, fear and society that separates us into our personal space and comfort levels? What would we see differently if we saw with an eternal perspective?

After about three hours into the trip I realized the lady sitting next to me and across from me had been staring out the window pretty much the entire time. For most of the day it was acceptable, there were houses, cars, people, buildings, churches, cities and signs to stare at. After nightfall you couldn’t really see anything out the window except your own reflection and even that loses it’s appeal.

Who were these people? Did they speak English? Where were they going? What would be the consequences of actually attempting a conversation? Do I have any right in bothering them? What should I ask them and what are their stories? What if someone somewhere is praying for their salvation and I’m the person God is putting into their path? What if one of their family members is praying that someone like me would be put in their lives to speak truth to them?

I pray for family and friends to come to know God and I always expect the messenger that’s going to do the job to be obedient to hearing His voice when their moment comes. I expect whoever is out there to be sensitive to what’s being whispered to them when my friends’ hearts are open to hear. Here I am praying all these prayers that someone dear to me would have the chance, or someone would tell them about Christ, I at least expect someone to have the courage and compassion to open their mouth and try. Maybe instead of praying so much for someone else to minister to my unsaved friends, I should pray first that God would use me and help me to be aware of those around me.

Why don’t we keep a better eye open for opportunities? Why don’t we make the most of each situation to turn someone’s heart and eyes towards God? How many more prayers must be offered before we become willing to put aside our agenda, plans or pride and point those around us to the answers for their problems?

I wish I could tell you how I did the good Christian missionary thing of opening up a conversation with them about how much God loves them and cares for them. I wish I could tell you that before the end of the trip they had both accepted Christ and had promised to start attending church. However…

The train rolled on, the hours passed slowly, the man checked our tickets and our cabin sat in silence. And out there, someone somewhere is praying, sending up requests and tears that someone somewhere would speak to their sister, mother, aunt, cousin the news of true joy. Someone may be praying that I will be willing. Unfortunately, I join them and sit and stare out the window… at nothing, praying for my friends and family.