I stood in a New York City subway station, leaning against a railing. Behind me, yellow caution tape spanned the hallway, blocking off the L train platform. Beside me on the wall, a poster explained how people in Brooklyn could work around the problems created by platform closure and the disruptive L train track work.
An MTA worker equipped with a megaphone and vibrant vest stood at the intersection of corridors, declaring a message to the seekers of the L train. “Manhattan bound L train: Take the free shuttle buses at the station entrance. Canarsie bound L stopping at the J platform: down the stairs to your left.”
She repeated this with consistency, ease, and a casualness, almost as if she were born to do it.
I watched as a woman walked up the corridor and stopped, a literal two feet from the megaphone. She looked as though she were contemplating seriously her ability to complete her journey now that the yellow tape had defeated her.
Beside her the megaphone blared, announcing a simple solution to her halted state. Once. Twice. Still she stood. Then she glanced at me. We locked eyes. In that moment I realized she saw me as a possible source of information, as I leaned there not looking lost.
We held eye contact for a couple of beats; then I deliberately shifted my gaze two feet to the left and stared at the megaphone. It blasted a third rendition in her ear: “Manhattan bound L train: Take the free shuttle buses at the station entrance. Canarsie bound L stopping at the J platform: down the stairs to your left.”
Her face lit up, and she marched down the stairs at her left, which she now knew were her path toward fulfilling her destiny. Or would at least get her to Canarsie.
As she disappeared, I thought about what had just happened. Romans 1:20 says that God, including His invisible attributes, is clearly evident in the things He created. Psalm 19:1 says the heavens and sky proclaim God’s glory and handiwork. When we think of the sun, moon, and stars glorifying God in constant praise, or the streaming colors of a sunset announcing His greatness, we can begin to feel small, quiet, and unnoticeable.
Even with the megaphone God has given His creation to shout out His glory, no sky will ever sing of salvation. No star can share the Gospel. We alone are granted that great privilege. Only we get to share the good news of Jesus Christ.
All around megaphones blast. But many people don’t notice. Sometimes, what people need is eye contact.