Listening: Love and Art

Many things happened inside of me when my son was in his final two months in the hospital before heaven became his new residence.  Among many of those transforming experiences came a commitment to, a renewed value of and a elevation of the practice of listening.  He had been in the hospital for the majority of a 17 month span.  But, the doctors entered his room on July 31, 2008 and informed us, amid a parade of “professionals” poised to help with the news, there was not much time left.  They gave a dire prognosis.  They were losing the battle with the cancer.  They saw nothing aside from the miraculous (I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt since they never really even factored the miraculous into the equation) to stop the inevitable outcome.  They said, “Three months max”.  It turned out to be less than two. 

 

I have prided myself to be a skilled communicator.  It is a large part of my profession.  In order to do what I do well, expression is a must.  An astute aptitude for listening is critical.  Two-way communication is my daily task.  But, on July 31, something happened.  I had been communicating with my son for 28 years.  I had been communicating with the Lord for more than 34 years.  But, that day I chose to “let my words be few” not as a spiritual discipline or out of obedience to James’ command, but out of necessity.  Matters were too important for trivial conversation.  I found it important to soak in what I needed to hear, while I was able to hear; while my son could still tell me what he wanted to say.  I found it critical to listen to what God had to say to us in the midst of the most difficult experience of our lives.  Clichés ceased.  A pent up desire to wait my turn impatiently until I could get my thoughts and opinions aired evaporated.  Good advice was not good enough.  The precise counsel for the moment was the only word worth saying. 

 

I began listening in more than a utilitarian way.  I was listening as love and as art.  I love my son so much, that I wanted to subordinate my penchant for chatter and hear his words, his heart, his dreams, his reflections on life and the past and his values.  I love God and know he loves me.  I know that he wanted to communicate peace and joy in the midst of pain and sorrow.  Deep love was the motivation. 

 

But, I realized that there was also an art component in raising the level of profound listening beyond the casual effort so frequently engaged.  The depth of love is what caught my attention and forced me to listen carefully.  Art is what needed to be developed in order for me to hear more than words.  I began listening, just as a child frightened in the dark ceases breathing, eyes dilated and wide open and ears tuned to every creak, squeak, wisp of wind.  In those cases, there is desperation to hear everything, to identify the origin of every sound and the exact location from which they come.  The moment requires full attention to every detail.  There is no room for lazy listening. 

 

That kind of attention to detail began at first conscious thought in the morning and continued until I could no longer remember dozing off.  I found myself reading the Scripture and holding my breath after every sentence, sometimes after every word, with the possibility that God might be speaking a firm truth in a new way to soothe my soul or to give me better perspective. 

 

I found myself listening to every word of my son.  It was unacceptable to simply recall a general conversation.  I did not chronicle his thoughts throughout the years.  I knew that if I were to retain a piece of his heart and mind here on earth, I would have to discover all of those nuances in the time we had left.  I wanted to soak in all of his words.  More than that, I wanted to hear the pain and aspirations hidden behind the words.  More than that, I wanted to listen to both God and my son to see how I could better connect the hope and help of the former to the need of the latter in his quickly evaporating time on earth.  The stakes were too high to spend too much time talking to God in prayer and blathering on with hackneyed advice and repeated stories with my son. 

 

I heard the Lord like never before.  I heard my son like never before. 

 

For the reader here, the point is not that eight months later I am here or there in the grieving process.  In fact, the grieving has gone quite well, thank-you.  The point is that the severity of that experience raised my level of listening beyond the casual and common for the rest of my life.  I hear God like never before.  It takes forever to get through a chapter of Scripture now.  Each verse is packed with a universe of meaning.  I stare at the hills and waves and clouds longer than every before.  Their beauty and mystery are more profound than the casual observer can appreciate.  I pray with fewer words than ever before.  As a result, I hear much more.  And regarding others, I can hear creaks and squeaks and movements in the lives of those around me like never before.  God is speaking through creation, through His word, through the Spirit, through dreams, through others and through the subtle impressions upon our thinking.  People around me are speaking through gestures, words, silence, volume, absence, presence, sighs, smiles, frowns and tears.  There is a whole world of message to be absorbed, if we listen well. 

 

The moments are too precious and the opportunities are too rare to listen “from the hip.”  I am convinced that we only deeply listen if we deeply love.  I believe there is also an art that requires training and practice.  It requires comfort with silence, restraining speech, asking the right questions, listening deeply to all of the answers, thinking about the answers, asking deeper questions that strike at the heart of meaning and listening as more depth unfolds and the layers are removed.  To quote Samuel, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” 

Comments

[Tom Murphy]

Thank You Matt. Right on!
Tom M.

[Teresa Shannon]

So profoundly right. Thankyou.

[Sharon Murphy]

Wow! Sharon M.

[Brenda]

This one left me hanging on every
word. I hope it will really... well I just feel that time is so
rapidly passing for so many that I love....no matter the circumstantial differences! thnks
for your prayerful thots!
In Christ,B.

[Lane Loman]

Matt,

Thanks for your insightful and moving piece on listening. The stuff of life has a way of giving new insight on everyday subjects often taken for granted.

L. Loman
Columbus, IN

[Beth Cullison]

Bishop Matt,

Thank you for taking the time to write this important message. It makes we want to listen better.

Beth
Indianapolis, IN

[Bobby]

Bishop Matt,

I don't know you, but I wanted to say that you struck something very deep and profound here. It is often out of pain that the raw truth is pulled out. We re-evaluate in pain and we re-center ourselves.

Thank you for sharing. Thank you for listening. Your listening is causing people to be loved better, and in this Jesus is coming more fully. We all benefit when we listen better.

[Sarah M. Hardman]

Matt,
how awesome is our God. So, glad I stumbled on this sight. Love is an art! To me you "get it". Praise the Lord and the clouds and mountains, rivers are so amazing,I gaze alot longer than most too!
Love Ya,
Sarah H.