30 Days of Hearing

Day 29: Active Listening

I sat with a woman for two hours, listening to generous details of her life and journey. It was hard work. Hard work to stay present with her, to not zone out and take a mental holiday some place else. I was aware of my need to pray and stay connected to God as I stayed connected to her and her story.

After some time, the folds of her heart began to open. Tears flowed freely, pooling in her eyes and overflowing onto her cheeks. She spoke of things that she hadn’t expressed outside her own head. She spoke words that for the first time her ears heard her own voice speak. Words that needed to come out. Words that had been imprisoned and longed to be set free.

As I listened, occasionally asking a question, adding a cup full of thoughts in a torrent of hers, I knew some things. I knew, as I listened to her and listened to the Spirit, that she needed me to give her “permission” to feel. She needed to know that she wasn't crazy or cruel to desire what she desires. I affirmed her longings and her questions.

Afterwards, she hugged and thanked me for listening. Something so ordinary, a gift that one would think natural and to be expected. She expressed to me how much it meant to be heard. I have pondered her response and felt deep joy while at the same time perplexed. Why is active listening so hard to do? Why is active listening so rarely offered? How many people in my life have I missed hearing? Has anyone really heard me?

Here are some questions to help you be an active listener. The next time you sit with a friend, set the table for rich conversation by asking:

• What is important to you right now that you would like for me to know?
• How did/do you feel about that?
• Can you tell me more?
• What do you mean? Can you give me an example?
• Where is God in this?

30 Days of Hearing

Day 28: Songs that make me cry

Saturday morning was colored in a shade of melancholy blue. I don’t know exactly why. Both David and I felt it. Perhaps it was tinted by a conversation we had with his grandma who is 93 and not doing so well. We love her dearly and it hurts our hearts to think of a day when we can’t hear her voice or experience her presence.

During breakfast, we listened to some music by a wonderful Italian composer/pianist named Ludivico Einaudi. You have to listen to this song called Svanire. I'm telling you, it is exquisite, heavenly-sounding. Here’s a link: Svanire We sat together speechless, allowing the beauty of this sweet, melancholy music to wash over us. It made us cry.

Why? What is it about the nature of some music, some songs, that can dissolve us into tears? I think it’s summed up in the word transcendence. This song conveys so vividly to me that there is a world “out there”, beyond me and beyond the world I am sitting in. It reminds me that I know “this world” isn’t forever and that world is. It helps me touch that world; taste that world; live for a moment in the bliss and uncertainly of that world.

I know that some of you find the blues of a melancholy day un-useful or disturbing. I’m sorry—but I think you are missing something. Hearing the sounds of music that make you cry deepens you and stirs your soul toward God who is transcendent. Please take some time to listen to this amazing song and allow the blues to enter you and connect you with him and heaven.

30 Days of Hearing

Day 27: If battlefields could talk

It’s a good 10 hour drive to Gettysburg from Indianapolis. I know because I road in a van there and back this past week—along with the other staff from my church. While there, we walked the battlefields of Gettysburg, reliving history and the very trying time in our nation we call (in the north) the Civil War.

If battlefields could talk—what would they say, what would we hear? Tom, our guide, told us stories of conflict, bravery and bloodshed. If battlefields could talk, we would hear cries and screams; cheers of victory and sobs from defeat; cursing and congratulating. We would hear the stories of young men, mere boys, whose lives were cut very short. We would hear stories of seasoned men driven by pride, prompted by character, and pressured by fear.

If battlefields could talk, I think we would be overwhelmed by the clamor of stories and the screams of the dying. If they could talk, I don’t think we could bear to listen. Yet, here we are—reaping the benefits from those who freed us, kept us unified, led us toward freedom. Maybe we need to let the battlefields talk.

30 Days of Hearing

Day 26: Opening our heart to God’s voice

I’m an avid reader. I’m looking at my nightstand right now—a modest stack of books on top, another pile next to it. If you walked into my office, you would see the same--piles of books, great and small, all beckoning to be read.

Though I am an serious reader and can’t imagine having a serious appetite for God without enlarging my appetite through reading, I don’t always read to hear—I read to read. I know the difference. For me, I am reading just to read when I gloss over the words on the page as if I’m in a race to reach the bottom of the page, the next page or the end of the chapter.

When I read to hear, I am more deliberate and measured. I stop at profound sentences and re-read them. I write notes in the margin; underline sentences; place question or exclamation marks off to the side. That’s when I am reading to digest. I am reading to nourish my hunger for God.

This week, I received an email from the Henri Nouwen society—something a friend of mine put me on to. I love Nouwen’s thoughts and musings and this quote was about spiritual reading—reading to hear. Here is what he had to say:

“Reading often means gathering information, acquiring new insight and knowledge, and mastering a new field. It can lead us to degrees, diplomas, and certificates. Spiritual reading, however, is different. It means not simply reading about spiritual things but also reading about spiritual things in a spiritual way. That requires a willingness not just to read but also to be read, not just to master but to be mastered by words. As long as we read the Bible or a spiritual book simply to acquire knowledge, our reading does not help us in our spiritual lives. We can become very knowledgeable about spiritual matters without becoming truly spiritual people.

As we read spiritually about spiritual things, we open our hearts to God's voice. Sometimes we must be willing to put down the book we are reading and just listen to what God is saying to us through its words.” Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

Keep reading. But not only that, keep reading to hear God's voice.

30 Days of Hearing

Day 26: Song in my head

I woke up this morning with a song in my head. Does that ever happen to you? Lately, the songs playing involuntarily inside my brain have usually been by Ingrid Michaelson—the singer I talked about a few days ago. There have been times in the last week when I began to hum a tune and David has said, “That song was in my head, too.” Weird how that happens.

So, what is that about? Why do some songs get stuck in our auditory memory and replay on their own? This phenomenon certainly testifies to the power of music. It carves an indelible impression into the folds of the mind. Composed of melody, harmony and rhythm, tunes are sticky and for some reason our memory latches onto them.

So, back to this morning’s tune. It was Ingrid’s song, The Mountain and the Sea. Once I realized that this was the melody playing in my mind, I decided to listen to it, almost as I listen to a Lectio Divina of Scripture, to hear if God wanted to speak to me through it.

As I listened, I was struck with the fact that though the song more than likely speaks of human love, it can also translate into lyrics about Divine love. In this song, Ingrid speaks of being a mountain and her lover being the sea. She says, “You can move me, if you want to. You can move a mountain, you can move everything.”

My mind connected her words with the words of Jesus, “I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20) While Jesus can move me if he wants to, he tells me that I can also move mountains with a small seed of faith. Hmmm….

Here are some questions for spiritual direction. Why not ask them for yourself.

• What mountains are before me?
• How might God move them through my faith?
• How does God want to move me?