Victories on the Sidewalk
Recently, my wife and I downsized to a smaller house. As empty nesters, it was exactly what we wanted to do. We took the plunge—twenty trips to the dump, countless runs to the thrift shop—and moved downtown into a home that’s about half the size of the one where we raised our family.
Here’s what surprised me most: living downtown changes the way you live. Sidewalks—those simple strips of concrete—have become a lifeline. We walk everywhere. And walking here is not just about getting from one place to another. It’s a social thread that ties the community together.
In the suburbs, we knew our neighbors, but here, walking puts us face-to-face with people every day. People stroll with their dogs, chat on their cell phones, listen to music or podcasts—and there we are, meeting them in the most natural way, right on the sidewalk. Sometimes we stop and talk, sometimes we exchange a quick wave, but every interaction feels like a touchpoint of life.
The Gift of Walking
Walking is more than exercise. It clears my mind and restores my spirit. It’s my time to think, pray, and slow down. In today’s society, we rarely have unhurried moments just to think. Our minds are crowded with to-do lists, fears, and worries.
For me—as a husband, a leader, and a man who loves community—walking is both therapy and strategy. I’ve come to believe that we need to be intentional about “walking the talk.” And for me, that means being on the lookout for small opportunities to encourage others.
Dishing Out Victories
When I walk, I try to hand out what I call “victories.” A victory can be a smile, a wave, a compliment, or even an unexpected conversation. They cost nothing but can mean everything.
One afternoon, I saw two boys playing football in their yard, tossing the ball back and forth, pretending to be Tom Brady. I couldn’t resist. I broke into a run, shouted, “I’m open! I’m open!” and one of the boys hurled a perfect pass straight into my hands. I caught it and did a little touchdown dance.
“Great pass!” I said, tossing the ball back. The boys grinned and high-fived each other.
Now, maybe that moment will be forgotten by dinner time. Or maybe it will stick with them—a little shot of confidence and fun. I don’t worry about which it is. Because in that moment, there was connection. Laughter. Joy. And that’s a victory.
The Lost Art of Engagement
We walk every day—through parking lots, down grocery store aisles, across office hallways. And in all those moments, we pass people. People who need victories.
It’s why I try to “walk through the halls slowly,” as John Maxwell puts it. That pace allows us to notice people, engage, and maybe brighten someone’s day. We’ve lost so much of that art—of speaking, listening, and being thoughtful with our words. Walking gives it back to us—if we’ll look up, pull out the earbuds, and connect.
The Example of Jesus
History’s greatest life-giver, Jesus, walked everywhere. He met people along the road, spoke words of encouragement, touched lives, and changed hearts. He didn’t just talk about love—He walked it out.
If we want to bring life to people, we must do the same: walk and talk. Engage with those we pass. Offer victories—both big and small. And remember, in a world that rushes past, the slow, intentional act of walking may be the most powerful way to truly see people.
“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word… all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” – Leo Buscaglia
And perhaps, the potential to turn your own life around too.
