A Listening Heart

There was a congregational meeting at church.
We waited until everyone arrived so there would be a quorum.
When that number was achieved, the meeting proceeded.
The main points were laid out and directions were given if there were any questions.

A microphone was set up so that if someone had a question, they could walk up to the front.
A voice was heard from the congregation.
What about if you are in a wheelchair?
Everyone smiled since we all knew the man who said those words.

He is faithful to come to church each week.
He wheels his chair up the main aisle.
He parks his wheelchair next to people he knows.
He sings and worships with abandon.

He was lovingly told that if he had a question, someone would bring him up to the microphone.
He seemed satisfied with that answer.
He said, Thank you.
The meeting proceeded and only a few people had questions.

During the meeting, the man called out a question.
He was gently told that the answer to his question would be coming in a few minutes.
There were things that had to be told before that answer could be given.
His voice was loud enough that he did not need the microphone.

When the meeting was almost over and we were to be dismissed, the man called out again.
From where I sat, I heard bits and pieces of what he said; I paraphrase his words in my memory.
I have things to say but sometimes people don’t want to listen.
Thank you that you all listened to me.

His simple words touched many hearts.
I know they touched mine.
Sometimes people don’t want to listen.
His words lingered in my mind and in my heart.

About a week ago, our youngest daughter was talking to my husband and I at the dinner table.
She had things on her heart.
She was telling us of what she felt led to do after graduation.
I heard her as she spoke to us.

A week later, as we talked again, I heard something new.
It was something she did not say before.
I mentioned that to her.
She respectfully reminded me that she had indeed said those things at the table the week before.

I lovingly insisted that it was new to my ears.
Mom, you weren’t really listening; you had thoughts and questions you wanted to say.
I heard her heart in that phone call.
When we ended our call, I went downstairs and talked to my husband.

I asked him if our daughter had told us all the things I was hearing for the first time.
She did, he said, she told us that night at the table.
I heard her as she spoke to us; at least I thought I did.
In reality, I did not hear her completely.

I thought of the man in the wheelchair.
I have things to say but sometimes people don’t want to listen.
Thank you that you all listened to me.
His words hit my heart like a knife.

He was talking about me.

Since the horrific shooting at the high school in Florida, surviving students are speaking out.
They want the current gun laws changed.
They want common sense to prevail and not political agendas.
They want every child to go to school without fear.

I have things to say but sometimes people don’t want to listen.
That seems to be the way it is in our culture.
We have our sides.
We have our political barricades that we stand behind.

We shout at each other instead of talking to each other.
We fail to listen.
Maybe this time it will be different.
Maybe this time the words of the young people will be heard.

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, and in purity. (1 Timothy 4:12)

We do not listen to each other.
My daughter was right; I did have things to say and questions to ask.
In my search for what I wanted to say next, I failed to hear her.
When I realized that, I asked her to forgive me for not listening completely.

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry. (James 1:19)

Quick to listen.
Slow to speak.
I am still learning.
I need God’s help to listen more completely.

Can you imagine what our world would be like if we really listened to each other?
Can you imagine if we had pure motives in our speech and in our actions?
Can you imagine if we tore down the barricades and really talked to each other?
Can you imagine the possibilities?

Thank you that you all listened to me, would reverberate across the land.