As a kid, I dreaded going anywhere with Mom because inevitably she would find someone she’d connect with, and there would ensue a long conversation about things that did not entertain a youngster.

Grocery store, post office, doctor’s office … didn’t matter. She found someone in which to be interested. And she just couldn’t resist engaging in a bit of friendly chit chat that to me seemed endless. It was … agonizing. 

What I didn’t understand then was that my mom was pouring herself into her neighbor, just as Jesus commands us to do. Without even consciously doing so, she was telling the person: “I see you; I want to know your story because you matter.”

Oh sure, Mom was naturally a talker. Having spent 45 years waitressing in small town cafes will bring that out in a person.

But with some age and maturity, I now know that what seemed in my youthful perspective as meaningless time filler was an example of my mom’s holy gift: Her ability to put anyone at ease and make them feel important.

I sense that we are losing this ability, the art of engaging another human in a wildly spontaneous conversation meant for nothing more than “being neighborly.”

Nowadays, in addition to being leery about sharing anything of ourselves with nearly everyone, it’s much easier for us to bury ourselves in our phones or just outright ignore those around us.

This is no longer impolite. That’s just our modern life.

So, I was a bit surprised this past weekend when Shelley and I were wandering around a very large urban zoo, and a lady asked to take a photo of my shirt. The shirt, which is admittedly cool and for which my wife deserves all the credit, proudly proclaims the nickname “The Sermonater” scrolled just above the outline image of a Bible.

Shelley thinks it’s pretty slick. Evidently others do so too. Because in just a couple of hours at the zoo, three people commented on it.

But this lady in particular liked the shirt so much she wanted to share it with her “pastor friends,” she said. Hence the photo request, which became my opening. 

I channeled my mother’s best efforts, and down the rabbit hole we went. Within minutes I’d learned that the woman admiring my shirt worked with a number of pastors through a local, nonprofit cafe that supports victims of human trafficking, and which she’d helped found. 

I further learned that she too was a survivor of being trafficked, and now was fighting to help others who are still in captivity. The conversation was holy, and helped educate me.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but friends, Mom was right. The people around us are infinitely more fascinating than what’s in your phone. Be bold; strike up a conversation. You’ll be better off for it. Amen.

Devlyn Brooks is the CEO of Churches United in Moorhead, Minn., and an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America serving Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. He blogs about faith at findingfaithin.com, and can be reached at devlynbrooks@gmail.com.