Listening is one of my favorite hobbies. I’m not even kidding. I love stories, and everyone has a story.

I tend to ask questions of others. Sometimes the conversations eke along slowly when their answers are short or people are reserved and don’t want to talk much about themselves. But I like it when I figure out that one topic when people’s faces suddenly light up. I see that I’ve unearthed their passion. “Tell me more.” Then I get a deluge of great new stories.

I am fascinated to hear about other people’s interests. I may have zero skills in gardening, preparing taxes, raising farm animals, or restoring cars—but if you are excited to tell me about it, I’m game to learn!

Most interesting to me is people’s backgrounds. I want to hear where you’re from, what your family dynamic is, where you’ve traveled, who you’ve met, what job experiences you’ve had. I love hearing about the things that have shaped you—how God has molded you into you.

I want to extol the virtues of this important piece of our daily communication. I want to encourage everyone to listen well and listen more.

Listening is giving someone a gift. You are offering people your time and attention. You are indicating that you value what they say. You demonstrate that you care about them as individuals created in the image of God. Can listening really do all of that? Indeed.

When you have something important to say, when you need to get something off your chest, when you need advice, when you have great news to share—how good does it feel when someone is really listening to you? When you are truly heard, you feel validated and valued. When you listen, you offer those gifts to others. 

Listening to others helps you understand them better. You will never fully grasp what it is like inside another person’s mind and heart, but the gift of listening can offer a glimpse. How can you reach out to others unless you know their needs? The way you’ll find out is by asking and listening. 

Try ministering with your ears this week. Listen to your family. Listen to your friends. Listen to strangers you just met. Listen with the goal of connecting and caring and showing the love of Jesus.

It can start with three simple words: “Tell me more.”

I give and give out words

But are these my best?

What if use them all now and then run out?

What if I give them away—

Never to find new ones again?

Can’t I keep a few?

Yet a thought was impressed upon my soul—

There will always be more words

More thoughts

More inspiration

There will always be more words

Besides, they are from the Lord

Not my own

He gives to me, if I seek his inspiration

Then I am to pass them along

Think of all the times I move too fast—

And miss the words that got away

They are not a gift to be squandered—

These words

There will always be more words

So

Give them out

They don’t cost—

But they can bring value

Give them out

They are a gift—

To be shared, not kept

Give them out

They were given to me in the first place—

Give them out

To those he asks me to give to

We have certain places we exist on this earth

Certain gifts

At certain times

With certain roles to fill

I was given words

Not to keep, to hold, to retain for my own worth

Not to build me up—

To give

To breathe life into others

To encourage, uplift, and adore

To press others onward

To remind them how precious they are

To help make them everything they are supposed to be

I give and give out words

Because they were given to me

There will always be more words

And always those who need to hear them

Living in the city, it’s a tension I experience daily. I pull up my car to a stoplight, and there stands a person, sign in hand, seeking money. Faces become familiar as people have corners they frequent.

But today was different. I saw Isaac.

Just hours before, Isaac showed up at our church. I greeted him at the door, and he and I had a long conversation about where he was in life and his church background. He joined our worship service, met a number of people, and talked with one of our elders afterward.

This happens to us—people who live nearby walk to our church and share their stories. They seek a handout at the end of it all. It’s hard not to become calloused. We know they truly have needs, but we also know their practiced stories aren’t always completely true. We strive to be “shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16). The policy of our church is to give some money once and take down the person’s information, seeking to hold them accountable and begin a relationship.

When I saw Isaac at the corner, my heart dropped. Earlier he’d walked up our church’s two flights of stairs to get to the sanctuary; here at the corner he leaned deceptively on crutches with his homemade sign. Just when I’d hoped this time the story I’d been told was sincere, reality struck.

I’m sad because this experience fuels my skepticism. While my heart longs to be empathetic, I find myself becoming numb and doubtful.

When I hear the call to enact justice, provide mercy, and fight for the dignity of all people, I have to realize that means Isaac as well. Just because he deceived me doesn’t mean his physical and spiritual needs are any less important to God.

It doesn’t make me better than him.

My experience highlights how blessed I am with what I have and who I have in my life. I am blessed to know I am valued by a Savior. 

Out of the abundance of mercy God has shown me, I am called to show it to others.

Photo by Edwin Andrade on Unsplash