He listens. Do we?

 

Uh huh. Yes. Oh really?

 

Perhaps one of the annoying habits and the hardest to break that people possess is not listening to what other people are saying.  Not just nodding politely, but is one actively listening with understanding in their eyes?

Guilty. I am so guilty of this. 

Over my lifetime, my mind has always been wandering, thinking about what I want to say in answer to their words. I want to tell my story! Let me interrupt you and tell my story. Their last sentence comes to a logical end, then I grab the reins before they reach the full stop.

Their eyes glaze over briefly before I hit my stride and then they relax. Oh, well, they think, politely smiling. Are they also mind-plumbing for their next reply?

It doesn't end with conversations. When our progeny were small, I would sit in church and the pastor would be preaching, sincerely presenting the Word of God. I fed my youngest progeny Cheerios and let the middle progeny play with his cars. The oldest one was quietly drawing.  

What was I doing? Hearing Pastor talk and nodding my head in agreement. What was I really doing?  

I was wondering if the crock pot chicken would be done. Would Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce) be on after I washed dishes? Did I move the wet clothes to the dryer?

Yes, inane random thoughts would invade my brain, while I nodded in response to God's message.

Perhaps the worst not-listening is when God is talking to me.

We have an on-going conversation throughout the day with me querying Him and then hearing His first four words, before I jump in: Yes, I am right.  Then my mind wonders off to laundry or dinner.

Let God Talk.  Then, wait. Don't cut Him off. He knows what you are going to say, but He wants you to hear Him. 

Let God Talk. He knows the answers to questions you are asking. He understands your fears, your worries. God is in charge.

Let God Talk. He has a plan for your life. Even though you groan and shout at Him, He is big enough to absorb your pain and your anger.

Don't interrupt God. Don't ignore God. Don't guess what He is going to say.


Be still and know that I am God. Psalms 46:10

Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. Matt. 7:7

Let. God. Talk.

AND then LISTEN.

 

He listens. Do we?

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Uh huh. Yes. Oh really?

Perhaps one of the annoying habits and the hardest to break that people possess is not listening to what other people are saying.  Not just nodding politely, but is one actively listening with understanding in their eyes?

Guilty. I am so guilty of this. 

Over my lifetime, my mind has always been wandering, thinking about what I want to say in answer to their words. I want to tell my story! Let me interrupt you and tell my story. Their last sentence comes to a logical end, then I grab the reins before they reach the full stop.

Their eyes glaze over briefly before I hit my stride and then they relax. Oh, well, they think, politely smiling. Are they also mind-plumbing for their next reply?

It doesn't end with conversations. When our progeny were small, I would sit in church and the pastor would be preaching, sincerely presenting the Word of God. I fed my youngest progeny Cheerios and let the middle progeny play with his cars. The oldest one was quietly drawing.  

What was I doing? Hearing Pastor talk and nodding my head in agreement. What was I really doing?  

I was wondering if the crock pot chicken would be done. Would Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce) be on after I washed dishes? Did I move the wet clothes to the dryer?

Yes, inane random thoughts would invade my brain, while I nodded in response to God's message.

Perhaps the worst not-listening is when God is talking to me.

We have an on-going conversation throughout the day with me querying Him and then hearing His first three words, before I jump in. Yes, You are right.  Then my mind wonders off to laundry or dinner.

Let God Talk.  Then, wait. Don't cut Him off. He knows what you are going to say, but He wants you to hear Him. 

Let God Talk. He knows the answers to questions you are asking. He understands your fears, your worries. God is in charge.

Let God Talk. He has a plan for your life. Even though you groan and shout at Him, He is big enough to absorb your pain and your anger.

Don't interrupt God. Don't ignore God. Don't guess what He is going to say.


Be still and know that I am God. Psalms 46:10

Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. Matt. 7:7

Let. God. Talk.

AND then LISTEN.

I is for Isaiah

We are up to the letter I!

Isaiah 30:21

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying

left or right?

This is the way;

Walk in it.

Walking on a path

Pretty clear directions.

This is updated--found the photo of the path forking in the woods. Felt it illustrated more clearly the  turn left or right choices we make.

Roaring to the Sea

From my front door during the day....

Listening as other smoke-grimed firefighters, Jen was struck with sheer immensity of this wildfire. 

From my front door at dusk...

Grim revelations of how many other sites weighed heavily on them all, but for Jen, this was her first fire.

They hacked and climbed through brush, always watching the indigo smoke billow in the sky.  Her team all knew that somewhere, a sparrow-sized flicker of flame had burst into this monster.

From my front door at night....

The searing conflagration roared toward the sea in a rapture of destruction and devastation.  

Over the hill where the fires sweep...

Jen shoveled without pause.

Thanks go to Delores at Under the Porch Light for providing six challenging words each Wednesday as a challenge.  The bold underlined words above show her wide scope when it comes to words. You should check out her A to Z Challenge where each day, Delores would provide an extremely obscure word.

Please go to her site by clicking on the stream in the right sidebar.

Note:  My camera and I have not melded yet, so these photos are grainy.  Our house is safe.  Others are not.  

Another Day at the Doctor Office

Another day at the Doctor’s office, another slice of humanity.  Another day for observing the great lives that pass through the door.

Awkwardness melted away as the chairs filled up.  Patients were forced to sit next to a stranger.  And then, one person leaned over to the next and said something.  It didn’t matter what, because the forbidden veil had been torn.  People started interacting, sharing, making eye contact.

Different races, ages, experiences, and life choices poured out in a flood.  Vietnam vet was next to long distance trucker.  An elderly woman sat next to twenty-something woman.  A bicyclist with torn ACL (or ALC) talked to the sixty-something man who sported a graying ponytail and a Padres baseball cap. 

Everyone was there to see the doctor for some reason involving pain or illness.  Some were clearly in wrenching pain, but relating the events of the accidents helped them endure the waiting.

What was I doing, you may ask.  I was the one who leaned over to the person next to me, and started it all.  After that, my journal was open as I wrote, interspersed with conversation.

Just needed to get the ball rolling.

Coincidences?

All photos from this Source

Throughout my life, I have heard about events when one person’s random decision changed his/her life or even saved their life. 

I was going to turn left and head to the store, but I forgot my list. Went back home, and then heard that the store was hit by a tornado.  I could have been killed…

Or

…We were walking on the trail when I slipped.  Bob helped me up, and then the trail just ahead collapsed.  We would have been on it!

Random coincidences?  I believe more and more that there are no coincidences, or that things just happen.  Events are ordained, and the choices we make determine the outcome.

This is hard to explain.  In Isaiah 30:21

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it…’

Throughout my life, this has happened.  Once when I was coming out from a store, I decided to take the street to the right where one shop sold pecans instead of going left where I wanted to buy fabric.  I would eventually go to both stores.  But, by going right, I ran into a friend who was desperate to get home to her dying husband.  I drove her to her home.

Another time while I was traveling, I needed to find my daughter who would meet me somewhere, after I called her.  My cell phone was almost dead, I was in a foreign country where English was not universally spoken, and I was lost.  Deciding to turn left and go to a bus-hub corner, I made my last possible phone call.  She answered; she was across the street in a café with red umbrellas.  They had decided to have a coffee there spur of the moment.

This seems to happen more often to me, as I have learned to be aware of that ‘voice behind me’.

What about you?  Have you ever had an experience like that?  What happened?

The Tradition of Storytelling

Storytellers come from other storytellers.  How can one learn the nuances and joys of oral storytelling unless they, too, have listened to the sounds of someone telling a story? 

My father and brother Robert were great storytellers.  My father preferred the longer, elaborated stories, during which he would gesture and embellish.   Robert was a storyteller who used simple language, significant pauses, and excellent timing.  Both had the listeners right where they wanted them, which is listening and responding.  My brother Don is an excellent storyteller, who laughs along with the audience, and has me almost wetting my pants.  My son John can tell a story with such language that the listener is transported to the site of story and seeing what he has seen.  My husband John is a great storyteller.  Right now he is reading about George Washington, and in the evening, he re-tells what he has read to me.  It is almost as if I were reading the book.

I am a storyteller, although my preferred medium is writing.  I have told many engaging stories to my children and my students.  So it is understandable when my granddaughters tell me stories.  Child #1is 6 years old, and Child #2is 4.8 years old, and that fact is quite important in the learning of storytelling.

Child #1 goes in for big productions, with blatantly stolen plots (Thank you, Brothers Grimm ala’ Disney).  She got an influx of character Barbie ™ dolls for Christmas: Sleeping Beauty, Beast/Prince, Belle, and Tinker Bell.  Beast/Prince is the only male doll is the mix, so he is one very busy guy, playing many parts.  Her stories have all the plot elements that make for a successful story, including the Big Kiss and the Happy Ever After.  Oh, also, at least one of girl dolls is naked throughout the story, because the girls can’t find the dress that goes with her character.

Child #2is more free-form in her storytelling.  Her last epic was while the two girls were sitting across the kitchen table, eating doughnut holes and drinking milk.  Her stories all start with ‘Once upon a time…” and go on from there.  However, Child #2 doesn’t have the language base and images to call upon for her story (like her sister).  Sooo, her stories are often like a plate of spaghetti, with the noodles meandering all over the plate.  Her characters’ names are often from items within her field of vision.  The princess was named Ribbon, and the prince was named Plate.

Child #1could tell from my eyes that this was getting to be a painful experience, so she interrupted her sister and asked, “Sweetie, how long is your story?”  With her hands on the table, #1 held them apart about 12 inches.  The right hand was the ending of the story, and the left hand was the beginning.  Child #1 showed her how to move the left hand toward the right hand as the story progressed.

Well, that made all the difference.  I watched her left hand move, vaguely hearing the plot twists and new characters (Milk, Napkin, and Cereal).  Slowly, the left hand came to within ¼ inch of the right hand, and stayed there.  When Child #2 reached a point that seemed to her sister and me to be a good conclusion, we started clapping.  Child #2 beamed with her successful storytelling.

Sometimes, storytelling has a painful learning curve.