Strangers on the Beach

By Elizabeth Rossow

You would think that sitting by the ocean would make me feel insignificant. I mean, we hear stories all the time of how, when faced with that endless water, you feel like a speck on the earth. It brings you face to face with how small you really are.

Now believe me, I get that. I am not the aquatic sister in my family, and that much water in one place is kind of daunting. And don’t get me started on whatever is under the surface…

Still, as I sit on the balcony of a tenth floor apartment overlooking Myrtle Beach (that I have rented with friends), what I am drawn to most is not the water, but the people. 

As I look out, there is a group of kids playing with a ball, three guys tossing around a baseball, two different individuals on a stroll, a group of three girls hanging out, and a few different sets of sunbathers. And this is just a small section of the beach I am looking at. If I were to lean over the rail and look up and down the beach, I would see countless stories unfolding right before my eyes. 

I don’t think anything makes me more aware of humanity than travel. When I travel, I am forced to step out of where I am everyday. I am not with the people I see day in and day out. The blinders of just trying to finish all the daily tasks are taken off. 

That’s when I see humanity. I see people living out chapters of their lives that I will never experience. I see strangers, whose only relation to me will ever be stranger; and that is OK. 

Just as water with no end in sight can seem daunting, so can the never-ending flood of people you encounter. I’m on spring break from a place where I’m studying to be a full-time church worker, so I admit I feel a small temptation to think that I have to go evangelize all those people. Hurry! Let me go interrupt their beach day with some Good News of Jesus! Don’t mind that their story is one I don’t know, their life one I have never been a part of. Because clearly it is my responsibility to see that they are saved…

I know that is the wrong mentality; and yet, I still have to fight that knee-jerk reaction. I constantly need to be reminded that the burden of salvation is not on me. I can trust that the Spirit is working outside of me; that the Spirit is alive and active, even in the lives of people I will never know. 

One of my professors likes to remind the class that you may be God’s Plan A for someone to hear the Gospel; but God also has a plan B. (And even C!) She also reminds us that we are not powerful enough to derail God’s plans. That is simply something we are not capable of (on purpose, or even by accident; by what we do, or what we leave undone!). I probably need to take that reminder to heart a little more often. 

Of course, if I take that mentality too far, I would never talk to anyone! I would start using the fact that “they don’t know me” or the idea that “God has another plan for them” to excuse my fear of talking to people about my faith. (Even though I am studying church work and theology, that fear still gets to me more than I would like to admit.) 

So I find it is important to remind myself that I need to stop and notice, and stop and talk. I can always hold the door or offer a smile. When I encounter total strangers, I can remember that these are real people with just as many emotions, life experiences, doubts, fears, successes, relationships, and thoughts as me. My life is complex and so is theirs. Jesus loves me and died for me, and he loves them and died for them. So I can be kind, offer sympathy, smile, and if the Spirit leads me (and gives me courage), share my faith. 

And when I can’t be the person speaking the Gospel to everyone I see, I can take comfort in the fact that I am not the only plan. The Spirit works in me; but the Spirit also works outside of me, in ways I am never privy to. Jesus is the Savior of the World. I don’t have to be. And that is a relief.

Standing by the vastness of the ocean could make you feel insignificant by comparison. Standing before the vast power of Christ could make you feel small and insignificant, too. If Jesus has a Plan A, B, and C, what does he need me for?

So I take comfort in the fact that I don’t have to do it all; and at the same time, it is also a comfort to know that I still have an important role to play. I am in my context with the people I know for a reason. I am a blessing specifically crafted by God for the life I am leading. My specific gifts and talents are crafted by God for a purpose; for lots of purposes, even! I am not insignificant, I am a part of God’s plan to restore all creation. 

But that’s the key: it’s God’s plan!

But the plans of the LORD stand firm forever,
the purposes of his heart through all generations.
(Psalm 33:11, NIV)

I am simply  along for the wonderous ride. 

So when this vacation is over and I am back into the rhythm of my daily life, I can ask the Spirit to help me dare to see the people around me as beloved, complex, broken, and wondrous. I can look for what God is doing in their life (possibly even through me). 

God knows everyone.

God loves everyone.

God has that capacity, so I don’t have to. 

I can get to know other people and live in community. I can love, laugh, cry, and be valuable. I get to know that I matter to God, and to people around me. 

And when a person I will never know passes me on the beach, God is surely working in their life, too. Whew! What a relief!