Do the hard thing. Welcome the new person. Yes, you’re busy. Yes, it will be uncomfortable. Yes, it will be awkward. But do it. It’s on you. Not the new person. You.
I'd like to share with you my story, if you don't mind.
Not too long ago, I lived in a rural town in South Korea just 20 miles from North Korea (a Seoulite may call it a village). My elementary school I taught at was actually inside the DMZ between the two countries, which was a rare opportunity for native English teachers there. I was so grateful, but I was so lonely. I experienced all sorts of culture shock, homesickness, and loneliness on a degree I had never experienced before.
One day, my hairdresser invited me to his church, and my arrival was like a celebration to them! They were all so excited I was there, and even though we couldn't understand each other, they embraced me. I made unexpected friendships and beautiful, beautiful memories because of these bold, selfless people who were intentional with me.
When I moved back to the US, I was going to find my community again and would die trying. I remember sitting in a small group (not so small--there were about 40 people there), and it was as you had described. Backs turned, like a shield, and the only way in was to be a crazy madman and break through it. I left those small groups so many times in tears. How was it that the same loneliness I felt in a country that did not speak my language was the same that I felt in a room full of people that did? It was the deepest, saddest kind of realization.
I still kept showing up anyway. I talked to strangers and took chances. I started volunteering on the coffee team and that's when my first friendship blossomed. To this day, she has been my closest friend--a champion in the hardest season of my life. Community is worth the painful, awkward, dreadful risks. If one chooses to keep at it!
I loved everything you wrote, Kate. I was sitting with you, feeling everything you wrote. I could not agree more. I have been the stranger. Now I am called to welcome the stranger. Yes, thank you for putting these words out into the world and reminding me what I need to do. The world needs your words. Thank you!
Kate, that was a wonderful piece. As someone who’s been in that predicament as well, who’s not a natural extrovert but an extrovert-by-force at times, I can truly state that I understand your narrative because I’ve been there as well. Being willing to follow your rules of engagement is both rewarding and a demonstration of showing the love of Christ to your fellow man. Thanks for sharing!
I love your words, Kate. I used to be the person who cringed at passing the peace but now I honestly look forward to it and being the face and words to people who maybe don’t know anyone. If I could be so bold as to add a caveat. I would also encourage people to look for the lonely within those who are people you know. As a recent widow and empty nester, I have been surprised by the lack of pursuit, even by those who you would assume are close. I would encourage others to listen to what those around them desire, and maybe have even asked for. I guess the lesson would be to keep your eyes peeled for both the new and the old who might be excited for an invite to coffee :-)
The ending reminds me of something from one of Strahan Coleman's prayer books: "The unwelcome have become the welcomers in the house of God."
Not to say at all that visitors are always unwelcome. As you said, sometimes we aren't even aware that we are creating a social context that is hard for a newcomer to step into. But when those who know what it feels like to be on the outside become the ones welcoming a new face, something magical happens. People feel the genuineness.
“I have been the stranger. Now I am called to welcome the stranger.” YES. The verses about kindness to sojourners because you yourselves were sojourners held so much more meaning after our time overseas. (And as with most expats, we felt more foreign here upon our return than we did overseas!) So much more compassion now.
“I need a license to catch fish, but not to write about one of the stickiest, most mysterious aspects of God. I’ll tread lightly here, hopefully staying on the happy side of heresy.” —Can we please be friends? 😆
Delightful as ever, Kate. So excited we get to read more of your work this year!
Kate, I could have written this article! I have so felt this since moving to a small town in 2020. We visited every church around us for a year and just finally gave up and joined a larger church in a neighboring town that had people who had also moved into our county as some point in their lives. I have lived in 3 countries and 4 states in my life, and I have never felt so isolated. I know part of it is because I am in a small town, and what I did in other places to find community does not exist here. But...the major problem is that most of the people around me have lived in the same area for generations. They do not know how to continue a conversation with a new person. Thankfully, I have been welcomed in my church, I still remain in contact with old friends, and I have found that in the solitude, my relationship with God has deepened...I have needed our relationship more. Thank you for expressing the loneliness of moving to a new place so beautifully. A fellow Alabamian...
We've been out of church through the holidays because my dad died out of state. Upon our return to church, yesterday, I did feel a bit like the visitor because there were so many new faces, but I'd read your article and found a new young person I introduced myself to. I also met the rest of the family. They'd been coming for several weeks. Also introduced myself to a lady sitting beside me.
I am an occasional "greeter" at church. Recently our title was changed to Host. The difference is subtle, but important. Thanks.
This was so good, Kate—I needed the reminder to look out for others. I have a tendency to get lost in my own thoughts and not notice someone new, or I hesitate too long. I’ve been so thankful over the years for the people who reached out to me!
This was hilarious. And wise. And delightful! Thank you, Kate. I’ve moved way too much in my life and feel this one acutely. Hope it’s alright that I already screenshot a short bit of it to share at a conference I’m speaking at this weekend. :)
I'm so glad to know you--and that you served the conversation first to me! As a military spouse, I was the new one a lot. Thanks for reminding us to look out for that new one in your fabulously relatable way of words.
That’s a good question. I was married to one who was chill about walking in late and hightailing it to the car asap when the service concluded. I hope you find what you need in your searching. 🙏
Hi Kate,
I'd like to share with you my story, if you don't mind.
Not too long ago, I lived in a rural town in South Korea just 20 miles from North Korea (a Seoulite may call it a village). My elementary school I taught at was actually inside the DMZ between the two countries, which was a rare opportunity for native English teachers there. I was so grateful, but I was so lonely. I experienced all sorts of culture shock, homesickness, and loneliness on a degree I had never experienced before.
One day, my hairdresser invited me to his church, and my arrival was like a celebration to them! They were all so excited I was there, and even though we couldn't understand each other, they embraced me. I made unexpected friendships and beautiful, beautiful memories because of these bold, selfless people who were intentional with me.
When I moved back to the US, I was going to find my community again and would die trying. I remember sitting in a small group (not so small--there were about 40 people there), and it was as you had described. Backs turned, like a shield, and the only way in was to be a crazy madman and break through it. I left those small groups so many times in tears. How was it that the same loneliness I felt in a country that did not speak my language was the same that I felt in a room full of people that did? It was the deepest, saddest kind of realization.
I still kept showing up anyway. I talked to strangers and took chances. I started volunteering on the coffee team and that's when my first friendship blossomed. To this day, she has been my closest friend--a champion in the hardest season of my life. Community is worth the painful, awkward, dreadful risks. If one chooses to keep at it!
I loved everything you wrote, Kate. I was sitting with you, feeling everything you wrote. I could not agree more. I have been the stranger. Now I am called to welcome the stranger. Yes, thank you for putting these words out into the world and reminding me what I need to do. The world needs your words. Thank you!
Allison
Allison, what a powerful story. Thank you for sharing it with us, and for your encouraging words.
Kate, that was a wonderful piece. As someone who’s been in that predicament as well, who’s not a natural extrovert but an extrovert-by-force at times, I can truly state that I understand your narrative because I’ve been there as well. Being willing to follow your rules of engagement is both rewarding and a demonstration of showing the love of Christ to your fellow man. Thanks for sharing!
I love your words, Kate. I used to be the person who cringed at passing the peace but now I honestly look forward to it and being the face and words to people who maybe don’t know anyone. If I could be so bold as to add a caveat. I would also encourage people to look for the lonely within those who are people you know. As a recent widow and empty nester, I have been surprised by the lack of pursuit, even by those who you would assume are close. I would encourage others to listen to what those around them desire, and maybe have even asked for. I guess the lesson would be to keep your eyes peeled for both the new and the old who might be excited for an invite to coffee :-)
Eli, this is a powerful encouragement to look for the lonely in places we otherwise might not have looked. Thank you!
The ending reminds me of something from one of Strahan Coleman's prayer books: "The unwelcome have become the welcomers in the house of God."
Not to say at all that visitors are always unwelcome. As you said, sometimes we aren't even aware that we are creating a social context that is hard for a newcomer to step into. But when those who know what it feels like to be on the outside become the ones welcoming a new face, something magical happens. People feel the genuineness.
“I have been the stranger. Now I am called to welcome the stranger.” YES. The verses about kindness to sojourners because you yourselves were sojourners held so much more meaning after our time overseas. (And as with most expats, we felt more foreign here upon our return than we did overseas!) So much more compassion now.
“I need a license to catch fish, but not to write about one of the stickiest, most mysterious aspects of God. I’ll tread lightly here, hopefully staying on the happy side of heresy.” —Can we please be friends? 😆
Delightful as ever, Kate. So excited we get to read more of your work this year!
Why, yes, I’d love to be friends, Rachel! 🫶
Kate, I could have written this article! I have so felt this since moving to a small town in 2020. We visited every church around us for a year and just finally gave up and joined a larger church in a neighboring town that had people who had also moved into our county as some point in their lives. I have lived in 3 countries and 4 states in my life, and I have never felt so isolated. I know part of it is because I am in a small town, and what I did in other places to find community does not exist here. But...the major problem is that most of the people around me have lived in the same area for generations. They do not know how to continue a conversation with a new person. Thankfully, I have been welcomed in my church, I still remain in contact with old friends, and I have found that in the solitude, my relationship with God has deepened...I have needed our relationship more. Thank you for expressing the loneliness of moving to a new place so beautifully. A fellow Alabamian...
We've been out of church through the holidays because my dad died out of state. Upon our return to church, yesterday, I did feel a bit like the visitor because there were so many new faces, but I'd read your article and found a new young person I introduced myself to. I also met the rest of the family. They'd been coming for several weeks. Also introduced myself to a lady sitting beside me.
I am an occasional "greeter" at church. Recently our title was changed to Host. The difference is subtle, but important. Thanks.
What a powerful shift—from greeter to host? That’s good.
This was so good, Kate—I needed the reminder to look out for others. I have a tendency to get lost in my own thoughts and not notice someone new, or I hesitate too long. I’ve been so thankful over the years for the people who reached out to me!
Also, I really resonated with your perspective on the Trinity! That’s something I’ve thought a lot about in the past few years.
This was hilarious. And wise. And delightful! Thank you, Kate. I’ve moved way too much in my life and feel this one acutely. Hope it’s alright that I already screenshot a short bit of it to share at a conference I’m speaking at this weekend. :)
Thanks, Anna, and honored to make it into your conference!
I'm so glad to know you--and that you served the conversation first to me! As a military spouse, I was the new one a lot. Thanks for reminding us to look out for that new one in your fabulously relatable way of words.
That’s a good question. I was married to one who was chill about walking in late and hightailing it to the car asap when the service concluded. I hope you find what you need in your searching. 🙏