Listen

Ok, friends. I have a public confession to make. And this will not come as a surprise to my husband. Ready for it? Are you sure? Here goes:

I am not a good listener.

There. I said it. At 34 years old, I still have not mastered the skill of listening.

Phew. In the spirit of vulnerability and transparency, it feels good to get that off my chest.

Here’s my problem: I am a thinker. To a fault.

This is certainly not to imply that I’m intelligent, but it simply means that my wheels are constantly turning, planning, devising, and revising.

I’m like the mouse that was given a cookie. One thing leads to the next idea, which leads to the next thought, which leads to another idea. I end my day feeling like a hamster that ran a full marathon on her cognitive wheel.

It’s difficult to bring my train of thought to a screeching halt to make way for others. My inner voice is so loud that it often drowns out the voices of people around me.

On more than one occasion, Calvin has stopped mid-conversation with a gentle, yet accusatory, “Are you even listening to me?” Um… what? Oh, sorry. I was in the middle of a thought.

This is a very unfortunate trait that I own up to completely. I am an ongoing work, and God will continue to refine me by His grace.

But I’ve noticed something lately. I’m not the only one who struggles with listening.

And I don’t mean the “eye contact and full attention” kind of listening with which I sometimes struggle.

I’m talking about the “other people have valid feelings and deserve to be heard” kind of listening.

Trending now: A pandemic. Quarantine. The changing role of government. People fearing for their livelihoods. People fearing for their lives. Democrat. Republican. A murder in broad daylight. A cover-up by a corrupt system. Deeply-rooted racism. Many a blind eye. Black. White.

There’s no question that we are living in the era of social media, now more so than ever. At a time when social distancing is being enforced or, at the very least, strongly encouraged, social media has become our primary source of interaction with others.

Over the past few years, I have developed a love-hate struggle with social media, and that’s another topic for another day.

But, in my opinion, one of the greatest dangers of social media is that it further perpetuates the “I’m not listening,” tendency with which so many of us struggle.

It’s so easy to step up on a virtual soapbox and spew out strong opinions when you’re not peering into the windows of someone’s soul.

Eyes speak volumes.

Bloodshot eyes speak to the exhaustion of a nurse who is daily exposed to both the suffering faces of this pandemic and the virus itself. When she logs in to beg her neighbors to comply with stay-at-home orders, they laugh and choose to see a dramatic overreaction to a flu-like virus.

Worried eyes speak to the devastation of the small business owner who helplessly watches years of hard work and dedication dwindle down to zero. When he logs in to protest the government’s destructive overreach, some shake their heads and choose to see a single focus on finances and a disregard for public health.

Tear-filled eyes speak to the fear of the Black American mother who frets over the murder of Ahmaud Arbery and the implications it holds for her own son. These recent events are a fresh reminder that the color of her boy’s skin could someday drive the wrong person to make fatal assumptions about his character. When she logs in to express outrage about the reality of racism in America today, many choose to see only her anger and tune out the truth completely.

No, we cannot see their physical eyes. But we make the choice to not truly listen.

Our society as a whole is broken and bleeding, confused and anxious. But somehow we muster up the strength to become keyboard vigilantes, turning up in droves to kick each other while we are collectively down.

This is not the way of Jesus.

If you are a follower of Christ, you know this in your head. But many times, what we know in our heads inadvertently slips loose from our hearts.

James 1:19 “Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.”

Jesus, the perfect Son of God in flesh, had the divine right to shut up the mouths of the masses while He walked this Earth. His omniscience made Him literally always right for 33 years of humanity. But we see a very different pattern displayed in His earthly life.

We see Him sitting at the well, gently drawing out the raw, awkward anger of the Samaritan woman.

We see Him conversing with the twelve, prompting them for their flawed, unfiltered thoughts.

Jesus’ earthly ministry was the summation of one occasion after another of looking into pain-filled eyes, listening to complaints, and asking the question, “What can I do to help?”

We may be separated by walls and screens, but when we log into social media, we are offering a glimpse into our own hearts. If we claim to be Christ-followers, are people seeing Christ in our comments? Are we attempting to peer past the posts of others into the hearts of people created in the image of the God we claim?

Let’s open our eyes, ears, and hearts.

Squelch the quick reactions if they don’t reflect the Savior.

Be like Jesus. Listen.

(And Calvin, I promise I’ll do better. So… what were you talking about? )