Needing regular mountain fixes, I headed up to my beloved Rock Creek: a narrow canyon thrusting into the heart of the Sierras, a nice stream tumbling down the lowest points, the dry land covered with Ponderosa Pines and aspens and meadows and enlivened with blue jays seeking handouts. The pic above shows my breakfast, where our story begins. I had just finished fajitas and eggs and bacon for breakfast and brought out my tablet to work on some poems, Unconventional posts and a book proposal.
One of the guys from the camp below me strolled up, introduced himself as Tom, and asked how I managed to get internet at 9,400 ft in a narrow canyon. I grinned and fought back the urge to prank him, explaining we had no access up there. We talked for 10 minutes or so, and discovered he had lived in my town. About 10 minutes after he left his partner walked up, “I’m Scott, and if it weren’t for COVID, I’d give you a hug. Oh, I follow Jesus also!” Tom soon came back, and we had a fine conversation for about an hour until they had to start packing to head home. Yeah, Scott was also a neighbor, from the next town to mine. A divine appointment perhaps? I like to think so.
After exchanging cards, an hour later I drove down to Tom’s Place, right at Hiway 395, that DID have internet so I could call my wife for the daily check in. I bought a soda at the store, sat down on the outside bench, and a guy walked out of the store, looked my way, “You don’t need that mask. It’s outdoors and we have a breeze.” That began a good ½ hour monologue of his time in Vietnam, his work in chemical warfare in the Army, his love for traditional Thanksgivings, his first girlfriend, and more than I care to list.
Desperate to both call my wife and escape being a captive audience, I repeatedly said I needed to call my wife, and he kept going. Finally, I bit the bullet, said “Excuse me,” ignored him, dialed the phone, and had a fine conversation with my wife as we shared what we’d been doing. Two good out of three isn’t bad, I guess. But two major dimensions of good conversations struck me.
First, dialogue is good. Monologue is bad. The brother of Jesus said that, “You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak” (James 1:19, NLT). We can easily get out of balance: either we dominate, like the chem warfare expert, or we just listen and don’t contribute. Participating properly shows our love and respect for others and their experiences and thoughts. My biggest struggle comes from hearing what they first say, formulating my response, then waiting for a break to share it. Let’s be quick to listen, and continue. Don’t be like me.
Second, be respectful and kind, and look for a gracious and appropriate time to bring up God or your faith in a manner that doesn’t push them into a corner. Like fishing for trout. You find a likely hole (topic in conversation), throw in your lure or fly or bait (make it sound attractive), and see how they respond. If the trout ignore it, move on to other topics. Paul was a master at that and shared the principle, “Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone” (Colossians 4:5-6).
Kick Starting the Application
Think about your conversations. Where do you land on the spectrum of dominating or not contributing? Why do you land there? What practical steps can you take to bring more balance? Also, how is your attitude in conversations? Hostile if they disagree? If they don’t agree with you, would they evaluate as gracious and attractive? How can you change that?