My back is to the door, but I can feel the cold air whoosh in as it opens. I turn to see who’s arrived. My smile slips as I spot her. A knot begins to form in my stomach. She’s about 5 feet tall with straight blond hair. She’s wearing jeans and a jacket, like the rest of us. Nothing about her is out of the ordinary, except one thing: She’s a stranger.

I turn back to my friends, plastering a smile on my face. I laugh along with them, but it isn’t the same. There’s a new girl in our church, and someone has to make her feel welcome. I know our pastors will do this, as well as some other church leaders. That’s just what they do. But who else will?

As I sneak another peek, I realize she’s my age. I see the pastor’s wife shaking her hand and smiling. She smiles back. She doesn’t look too bad. Her eyes turn toward us, and for a split second they land on mine. The knot in my stomach tightens. She saw me looking at her. Great. Now I can’t pretend I don’t know she’s here. I bite the inside of my cheek. I’ll have to talk to her.

Breaking the Ice
“Hey guys,” I say, breaking into the girls’ rousing conversation about Sprite Remix. “There’s a new girl here. Don’t look!” I squeal as every head turns in search of the new girl. “Anyone want to meet her with me?”

They’re all quiet. “How about after church?” one suggests. I think about this and agree that it might be the thing to do. That way, the girl might leave before I can talk with her. Then, Signe, my sister, ends the battle in my conscience. “I’ll go,” she says.

Together we head toward the sanctuary in search of the new girl. Secretly, I hope she’s already left. Maybe she just wanted to check out the building’s architecture. Or maybe she needed to use the bathroom and this was the closest stop.

With disappointment, I spot her near the back of the sanctuary. No one stands between her and us. I feel like we’re walking the red carpet as we approach her. She has her coat off. She looks comfortable but a bit hesitant. I suppose anyone would be hesitant if they saw us coming. I can’t speak for Sig, but I know my face is twisted into an imposing smile.

“Hi,” I say as I sit in the chair in front of her, turning so my arms lay across the backrest. Signe stays standing.

“My name is Tabitha,” I say.

“Hi,” she says.

“This is my sister, Signe,” I say.

“Hi,” Sig says.

“Hi,” the girl answers. I wait for her to introduce herself. She doesn’t.

“What’s your name?” I finally ask.

“Sarah.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll try to remember that. I’m really bad at names.” I laugh. That’s the one line I can count on. I say it every time I meet someone. But this time it didn’t seem to fit. Sarah isn’t a hard name to remember.

“Is this your first time here?” I know that it is, but she doesn’t know I know, so it doesn’t matter. We’re off to a good start. I ask her about school. She graduated. I ask her what she’s going to do now. She doesn’t know. My bag of arrows is empty. The conversation drags.

“I like your hair,” I say.

“Thank you.”

“I like your shoes,” I say.

“Thank you.”

“I like your nose ring,” I say.

“What nose ring?” she asks.

“You aren’t wearing a little red . . . stud?” I ask as I bite my tongue.

“No.” Her eyes roll a bit and a big smile appears on her face. “But you can pretend I am.”

Pastor calls the service to order. I ask Sarah if she’s staying for the potluck. She shrugs. I whisper goodbye and sit with my family, waiting with anticipation for the worship to start.

Becoming a Greater Greeter
This is an example of a typical Sunday morning for me. If there’s not a new girl who’s my age at church, there’s usually a new family or a visiting friend of a regular attendee. By nature I’m a reserved person. I like to hang out with people I know. Greeting someone new is difficult for me.

However, God impressed me with the need to be friendly. That may sound odd, but in reality, Christians aren’t guaranteed to be friendlier than anyone else. The way I see it, if Christians aren’t friendly, what good are we? If we’re put on Earth to advance the kingdom of God and we have a hard time being nice to people — even those who visit us at church — what good are we doing?

It’s taken a while to gather my courage and boldly introduce myself to strangers. I still run out of things to say, and occasionally, I say something stupid. But with God’s help, I’m learning.

It’s easy now to introduce myself to people, smile and say, “I’m glad you’ve come.” After doing this I’m often proud of myself for being friendly. But I’ve realized that when I do God’s work, I need to remain humble and do it with my whole heart. I must be sincere. My work for God can’t be conducted on a skindeep basis, because God doesn’t want just my skin. He wants my heart, mind and body.

God has given gifts and talents to everyone. Some have the gift of gab and make perfect greeters. Others don’t have this gift, so they don’t throw themselves upon strangers with exclamations of joy. It’s this last group that must work at being honestly friendly toward outsiders.

In Colossians Paul says, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (Colossians 4:5-6).

Even with the progress I’ve made, I’m far from the perfect greeter. My stomach still quivers at the sight of a new face. Sometimes I get carried away with what I want to do and shirk my responsibilities altogether. Sometimes I rebel, and sometimes I’m a skindeep greeter. But I take comfort that God will continue to use me, a work still in progress. With His help, I can become a greater greeter, able to present myself to God as one approved, even in such a simple thing as saying “Hi!”