Getting an Earful

Listening.

Remember when that was a thing?

A long, long time ago.

Before Covid.

(And cable.)

Gone are the days of shooting the breeze and sipping sweet tea on the neighbors’ porch all afternoon. No more stretching phone cords down hallways and stretching phone calls for hours… or dropping quarter after quarter into a payphone just to hear the voice of the one you love.

*sigh*

It’s a lost art… listening.

Now it’s texts and tweets and ten-second voicemails. (Just the facts, ma’am.) And everybody trying to talk over each other.

The loudest wins. (Or do they?)

One thing’s for sure. The noise is deafening.

My ears are ringing… and my head hurts.

(Heart too.)

There’s a whole lot of clamor up in here. No shortage of spitting and spatting and spewing. Side of spite, anyone?

It doesn’t matter what state or station or social media platform… you can’t avoid the controversy/contention/contempt.

(You might not avoid the migraine either.)

Our neighborhoods and newfeeds are rife with criticism and conflict. There’s an endless roar of angry voices and ugly soundbites. Is it just me, or do they sound increasingly – and alarmingly – vile? (Or, altogether unhinged.)

I keep wondering… If everybody’s talking at once, who’s gonna listen? Umm..

Nobody?

Good listeners – they’re at risk of becoming extinct.

Because here’s the thing about listening: It’s not as easy as it looks.

I know I’ve got plenty of room for improvement.

And I’m not alone.

Listening requires us to shut our pie holes. And open our ears/mind/heart for more than a minute. It requires slowing down, settling in, listening to hear rather than…

React.

Reinterpret.

Rebut/reject/refute.

Most of us start formulating a response while the other person is still speaking. We sabotage our chances of hearing with interruptions, objections, insinuations and arguments.

(Why do so many people think the devil needs an advocate?)

What we need is more discussion, fewer diatribes. More conversation, fewer accusations.

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 (NIV)

Everyone.

Here’s the hard thing about listening:

Listening requires humility.

And some self-control.

It calls for respectfulness and thoughtfulness. It asks patience. And demands silence.

Too much talking = too much trouble.

You know what I mean. So does John Mayer.

My stupid mouth… has got me in trouble… I said too much again…

Me too, John.

The Bible has some insight on what we say (and why and how we say it).

Indeed, we all make many mistakes. For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way.

We can make a large horse go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. And a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot chooses to go, even though the winds are strong. In the same way, the tongue is a small thing that makes grand speeches.

But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire.  And among all the parts of the body, the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself.

People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! ~ James 3:2-10 (NLT)

Did you catch that? The tongue is… fire.

(Need a visual? Google images of the West coast wildfires.)

A fiery tongue can incinerate and obliterate everything in sight.

Know how to extinguish those flames?

Gently.

A gentle answer deflects anger, but harsh words make tempers flare. ~ Proverbs 15:1 (NLT)

So maybe we should proceed with a bit more caution… and compassion. Ears – and minds – open.

Because listening just might be the most underrated character quality of all time.

When we discover someone who’s good at it, most of us tend to lean in. We are comforted and blessed (and a bit awed) by the person who gives us the space and grace to unburden ourselves. The neighbor who pours a couple cups of fresh-brewed coffee and settles in for a long and winding conversation… The colleague who isn’t multi-tasking while you’re talking. The friend who doesn’t always agree with you, but always delights in you.

That’s the kind of person I adore… and aspire to be. Which means I need to do better.

With the people I love. And the people I don’t like very much.

And with God too.

I spend a fair amount of time praying (petitioning/pleading/pestering) but more often than not, I don’t take the time to listen for an answer.

Which is kinda crazy ’cause I know God has the answer to every question I’ve ever asked.

And the Gospel is the cure for all that ails me/you/us.

I’m convinced that as I learn (and re-learn) the fine art of listening, I’ll start looking a lot more like my Father.

He’s the best listener ever.

Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. ~ Jeremiah 29:12 (ESV)

What’s even more astonishing? He waits patiently as long as it takes for me/you/us to turn and talk to Him.

And then He listens closely enough to really hear us… our thoughts… our hearts.

Because He cares.

And because He cares, He comforts.

So…

Say what you need to say.

I’m all ears.

Wendy

P.S. My mother always told me, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

(I’m trying, Momma.)