Jesus calls us to go everywhere and tell everyone.
Several years ago, my family moved to Florida to an older neighborhood that had a lot of older white folks living in it. At the time, we had our two boys. Trey was maybe six, and Michael was about four years old.
We moved in across the street from a guy that I assumed I would not jive with. He was older, he did not talk much, he chain smoked like a chimney, and he walked two big dogs. They looked like they could have eaten one of my kids in a single bite.
And I made assumptions.
A lot of them.
I figured older white people did not want loud families with little boys running around, losing balls, and making noise. I assumed he would not approve of an interracial family living across the street. I convinced myself he probably thought a Black man moving in lowered his property value.
All of this happened without me ever actually talking to the man.
Because he smoked constantly, even trying to say hello meant walking back inside smelling like I had been living in an ashtray. So eventually, I stopped trying. Since he did not say much, I did not say much either.
Then everything changed.
A few weeks before Christmas one year, I noticed he was dropping weight fast. I had seen cancer in my family, and I recognized it immediately. But I did not say anything because, after five years, suddenly asking would have felt nosy and fake. So I stayed quiet.
As the weeks passed, I noticed he was no longer walking his dogs or working in his yard. He would just sit in a chair at the edge of his garage watching people go by. Something in me knew I needed to talk to him.
One night around 11 p.m., I was taking out the trash, and I noticed his garage light was on. The Holy Spirit began speaking to me, telling me to go across the street and talk to him. I pushed back and argued with the Holy Spirit, insisting that I did not want to go talk to a racist man. Then the Holy Spirit spoke louder, and it was just as clear as I am communicating right now. He said, Are you going to obey Me or not?! That hit me right in the chest. That was my moment. So I started walking across the street.
But as I got closer, it hit me. I did not even know his name. I thought I had heard someone call him Skip once, but I was not sure. So I had to wing it.
I made a little small talk about the weather and the night sky, but quickly got around to asking the obvious question.
“I have noticed you have not been out much. Are you okay?”
He confirmed exactly what I already knew. Lung cancer. Radiation. Chemo. Very little hope.
In that moment it struck me like a ton of bricks.
Between the two of us, there was only one really bad neighbor, and it was me.
After a short conversation, I found him to be kind, open, and gracious. He shared pieces of his life with me like we had been friends for years. And he excused my lack of effort as if I had been the one who was struggling.
Before I left, I told him I wanted to pray for him. I even proudly said, “I am a pastor,” like that gave my prayers some kind of special access. He just smiled and said, “I know.”
That made me feel even more ashamed.
Because I thought he was a racist, I did not want anything to do with him. I did not talk to him. I did not pray for him. I did not try to show him the love of Christ. Why? Because I had already decided, without ever giving him a chance, that he would not receive God’s love. I presumed he was a racist, so I never even tried to witness to him.
Do not be like I was.
Do not assume the worst.
Do not read silence as hatred.
Do not label someone racist because you never gave them a chance.
Do not create a story in your head and then live as if it is true.
Jesus calls us to go everywhere and tell everyone.
Yes, even the guy across the street.
Even the one you assume will not receive you.
Even the one you misjudged before you learned his name.
This experience taught me something I will never forget. The enemy wants us to live behind invisible fences built from fear, assumptions, and false narratives. God calls us to cross those fences, to walk across the street, and to love people we have already judged in our hearts. When we do, we often discover that the person we feared is someone God has been wanting us to reach all along. Sometimes the greatest ministry you will ever do begins with simply taking a few steps in the right direction.
(This is an excerpt taken from the book Let’s Start Again: A Bi-Racial Couple’s View on Race, Racial Ignorance, and Racial Insensitivity by Alex and Angela Bryant.)
