003. The Stranger On a Bench Effect

Sometimes, it feels easier to open up to someone who seems invisible.

Sometimes, it feels easier to open up to someone who seems invisible. I first encountered this idea in a short film on YouTube. It struck something in me. I wanted to write about it for a while, but the words didn’t quite come together, so I shelved the thought, letting it gather a little virtual dust. Then just recently, a few days ago, the thought was reawakened, this time reignited by a podcast episode on Redefining introversion and social interaction (a must listen). It felt like a gentle nudge to revisit it. And maybe now, the words are ready to find their way out or maybe spiral all over the place.

This invisible person is not a friend, not a parent, not even someone particularly close. But a stranger on a bench, a shopkeeper sweeping the floor at closing time, a bricklayer, a stranger on a long bus ride. Someone who won’t psychoanalyze your story, won't echo it back to your family, won’t offer half-baked advice or look at you like a puzzle to fix. Just… someone who listens.

We don’t always open up because we want direction or some grand perspective shift. Sometimes, we just want to be heard. More often than not, we do know what needs to be done when tough decisions have to be made for instance, but we still feel a sense of grounding when our thoughts are aired out. Just to feel less alone in our thoughts—even if only for a few minutes. To know our thoughts exist outside our minds.

I’ve come to realize that this deep longing to be gently seen or heard is not a flaw or weakness jn ourselves, I think it’s deeply human. Inherent even.

But what if I told you that that kind of listener is always with us?

That listener is The Holy Spirit. A listener with a presence that sits with you silently, that listens when you ramble, that sees your struggles, that doesn’t rush your healing or demand perfect clarity from you. One who understands even the things you can’t yet say or express.

This reminds me of the story of Hagar…

Genesis 16:13: "So she called the name of the LORD who spoke to her: "You are the God who sees me," for she said, "I have now seen the One who sees me!"

Hagar, alone and cast out, spoke those words. In a world that made her invisible, God saw her.

And you know what? He sees you too. Isn't that amazing?

Be it in your silence. In your confusion. In your hardest of times. In your lowest of lows. In your happiest moments.

Sometimes, you won’t get answers right away. You won’t always understand what’s happening or even why. And I know that can be confusing and discouraging. But you can surely rest in the truth that you are seen by the One who knows your heart better than you do. That should be a bar right there!

There’s really something special about being known like that. Quietly. Gently. Fully.

And I think we all need that kind of listener in our lives.

I want you to know that you matter. You’re heard. You are seen. And Jesus loves you!