For one of my classes we were supposed to choose a spiritual discipline for Lent which would help us learn discernment. I really wanted to grow in my ability to discern God’s voice. In the past I have found that my journaling provided the best avenue for that process for me. However, this assignment was not only to deepen our discernment of the Spirit of God’s directing, but also our discernment of other people’s spirits. My kids have accused me on more than one occasion of being busy, being distracted, of not paying attention. So with fear and trepidation, I chose what some may call active or attentive listening. I figured if I can’t give complete attention to someone who I can see standing in front of me, how in the world could I pay attention to the Spirit of God whom I can’t see?
Practically, I needed to figure out how to do this in a measurable way. I decided that I would not multitask whenever one of my children were talking to me and that I would focus all of my attention on them and what they were saying. I thought about including Mike as well, but frankly was scared to, just because we tend to talk a lot and I was afraid I’d never get anything done. My plan was, after four weeks, I’d also try doing the same thing with God, that when I was wanting to listen to Him, I’d try to not be doing other things.
I guess I had forgotten to figure in that I usually talk with the kids while I make dinner. They sit at the kitchen island, eating a snack. Then I help with their homework. All the while we talk, I chop, mix or whatever. I answer a question, open the fridge, subconsciously take inventory, answer another question, add items to the grocery list, ask about their day, etc. There are many days when I’m talking on the phone, planning whether or not a play date fits on the calendar, form up hamburgers, and cast long, loving looks at my significant other, all simultaneously. It’s an art known only to mothers.
The first day I was shocked. I was chopping an onion when Emma came up for help on a math assignment. As I was about to answer her, I remembered my assignment and set the knife down. Question answered, I returned to chopping. Then Ian came up with a question. Needless to say, dinner was very late. It only took about three days before I realized I needed to be prepping dinner (or having someone else prep it) much earlier in the day. I guess that was my first aha moment. Active listening means planning ahead.
It was barely one week into Lent and I still had five weeks to go. Was I going to have to prep dinner before the kids got home every day? That was supposed to be my study time. I was also waiting for the kids to acknowledge my incredible sacrifice. Didn’t they see my mind racing every time I had to stop what I was doing to talk with them? In short, the answer to that is “no”. They didn’t notice. Neither did Mike, at least, not until he asked. (Ok, so I complained about how hard this project was until he finally asked what I was doing.)
What was making it even harder is, as I began giving more attention to the kids, they seemed to start having more needs. And then it branched off. Instead of just needing help on homework, they realized (subconsciously, probably) that I was actually listening to them and began telling me more of what was going on in their hearts. The good thing is that was exactly what I wanted. The bad (well, not bad, but just difficult) thing is that took even more time which meant I needed to plan even further ahead. That led to the second aha moment: When one actively listens, others share those things that are closer to their hearts.
I started to get rather excited. “Wow. If I actively listen to God, maybe I’ll hear more of His heart. That’s the direction I want to go!” I was anxious to implement this in the last couple of weeks of Lent. (Yes, I intended to do it more than that, but for this assignment, those two weeks were what I had planned to journal on.) Unfortunately, just as I was about to begin, Mike’s father passed away. We went up to Michigan for the funeral and I returned to the impending due dates for two massive papers. I had planned to finish them earlier, but it was actually the not-multitasking-active-listening that put me behind on my schedule. I figured I could return to my active listening to God experiment, maybe “extending” Lent as soon as I finished the papers two weeks later. The day I finished my papers, we heard Mike’s mom was failing and a couple of days later, she too went home to God. So it was off to Michigan for a second funeral. Third aha moment: Life doesn’t go on hold when you decide you want to grow spiritually. In fact, it may even get tougher since it is suffering that drives us to God.
In those tough days, the Holy Spirit made it clear that I needed to just be there for Mike, to listen when he wanted to talk, to sit with him quietly when he simply needed companionship. Amazingly, I had learned how. Somehow, in the few weeks of practicing listening, I actually learned something. I am not close to perfect at it, but it was progress. Just to keep me humble, one of my kids said again this week that I was too busy, that I’m always stressed over due dates, etc. (Personally, I distinguish that as “good stress”. I love studying and writing papers, though the due dates do sometimes put me in a pinch. But she didn’t see them that way. What I discerned her heart saying was that she wanted more attention.)
Today I went to the department store. The lady at the cosmetic counter began talking to me as I was buying some makeup. I looked at my watch: I had thirty-three minutes to finish and get back to pick up Anna. Immediately I felt the Holy Spirit tell me to put my watch in my pocket and listen to this lady. I did. As she spoke, she began to pour out her family’s trials. I heard her heart. I think I said two things, empathizing. I’m not really sure – they weren’t my words. The next thing I knew she was embracing me with tears in her eyes, asking me to come back and she’d take me to coffee to talk more. That led to my fourth aha moment: Listening actively is a way of extending God’s grace to the world. And everyone’s soul can use that.
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
Friday, May 1, 2009
March, 2009
We’ve had a few crises of faith going on at the Shane household of late. This month I have two papers due. Both are on the topic of women. In the first I’m looking at Jesus’ interactions with women in the Gospels. The second is an inductive study of a passage in the New Testament dealing with behavioral/role expectations of men and women. The first I chose, the second was assigned. But it has thrown me into the world of women in the first century. And it was perfect timing since I’ve been struggling through this whole issue of being a Christian woman (as one of the last newsletters alluded to).
In an American mindset, equality of worth and equality of opportunity are often seen as going hand-in-hand. Just witness the civil rights movement. So when young women who have been raised in the post-women’s lib era approach Scripture and see restrictions placed on them, they naturally feel something is out of kilter. I was raised in a world that was pre-lib, but being on the cusp of that era as the very last of the boomers, I got a little of both worlds.
I read a lot of articles on both sides of the issues. What was odd is that my brain and my heart were often on opposite sides. I often found myself arguing for God’s sovereign right to place role distinctions, yet my heart cried, “Why?” Yes, I understand the “ontologically the same, but functionally different” logic, but my heart doesn’t care. I feel unloved when I don’t feel I have the same opportunities as another based on something that I cannot change.
Meanwhile, one child has been struggling through whether or not there is a God. She read a book about a cult and read them saying the same kinds of “spiritual” phrases and yet having behaviors that are diametrically opposed to what we teach. The more she read, the more confused she got. Simultaneously she came across the story of Achan in the Old Testament. (He’s the guy who lied and got himself and his whole family annihilated because of it.) Why would God kill his family? Weren’t the kids innocent? Did she even want to believe in a God who would do such a thing? How can the God of the Old Testament be the same as the God in the New Testament? And how did she know that she herself was not like the girl in the cult who had been fed a load of hooey and that she was going through life blindly accepting stuff like those kids?
Having just come through an Old Testament class that covered subjects like that, I tried teaching her a few of the things I had learned. Didn’t work. I was speaking to her brain, not her heart. She decided that she did not want to believe in God. As we talked through the whole issue, I couldn’t believe myself saying it, but I encouraged her to go with that idea. For a month. “Take one month, do not acknowledge God in any way, and see how you feel at the end of it.” Maybe I was wrong, but I knew that if her faith was true it would stand. And if it was built solely on what others have taught her and not her own convictions, it’d collapse.
It was tough for her. She told me later that she would often start to pray and then remember, “Oh yeah, I don’t believe in God. I can’t pray.” It was tough going to church with the family as well. Every time I looked at her face, she seemed so conflicted, but I knew this one was between her and God. A few weeks after her month ended, she came to me in tears. She missed God. But she also felt guilty for rejecting Him. At the same time, she’s still full of so many questions and doubts. All I could do was hold her and tell her it was OK to search for truth. “Be glad you care enough to search. And keep searching. You search for God. I’ll search to know His love. The enemy of faith is not doubt, but indifference.”
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
In an American mindset, equality of worth and equality of opportunity are often seen as going hand-in-hand. Just witness the civil rights movement. So when young women who have been raised in the post-women’s lib era approach Scripture and see restrictions placed on them, they naturally feel something is out of kilter. I was raised in a world that was pre-lib, but being on the cusp of that era as the very last of the boomers, I got a little of both worlds.
I read a lot of articles on both sides of the issues. What was odd is that my brain and my heart were often on opposite sides. I often found myself arguing for God’s sovereign right to place role distinctions, yet my heart cried, “Why?” Yes, I understand the “ontologically the same, but functionally different” logic, but my heart doesn’t care. I feel unloved when I don’t feel I have the same opportunities as another based on something that I cannot change.
Meanwhile, one child has been struggling through whether or not there is a God. She read a book about a cult and read them saying the same kinds of “spiritual” phrases and yet having behaviors that are diametrically opposed to what we teach. The more she read, the more confused she got. Simultaneously she came across the story of Achan in the Old Testament. (He’s the guy who lied and got himself and his whole family annihilated because of it.) Why would God kill his family? Weren’t the kids innocent? Did she even want to believe in a God who would do such a thing? How can the God of the Old Testament be the same as the God in the New Testament? And how did she know that she herself was not like the girl in the cult who had been fed a load of hooey and that she was going through life blindly accepting stuff like those kids?
Having just come through an Old Testament class that covered subjects like that, I tried teaching her a few of the things I had learned. Didn’t work. I was speaking to her brain, not her heart. She decided that she did not want to believe in God. As we talked through the whole issue, I couldn’t believe myself saying it, but I encouraged her to go with that idea. For a month. “Take one month, do not acknowledge God in any way, and see how you feel at the end of it.” Maybe I was wrong, but I knew that if her faith was true it would stand. And if it was built solely on what others have taught her and not her own convictions, it’d collapse.
It was tough for her. She told me later that she would often start to pray and then remember, “Oh yeah, I don’t believe in God. I can’t pray.” It was tough going to church with the family as well. Every time I looked at her face, she seemed so conflicted, but I knew this one was between her and God. A few weeks after her month ended, she came to me in tears. She missed God. But she also felt guilty for rejecting Him. At the same time, she’s still full of so many questions and doubts. All I could do was hold her and tell her it was OK to search for truth. “Be glad you care enough to search. And keep searching. You search for God. I’ll search to know His love. The enemy of faith is not doubt, but indifference.”
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
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