Listening

I was listening to a sermon today focused on the idea of finding out what we don't know that we don't know.

Don't worry. I'll just leave it at that.

The minister -- let's call him Jay, since I didn't catch his name -- told a story about a friend of his. It seems that the Jay had a bad habit of interrupting -- "my story is better than your story" kind of habit. The friend, Frank, finally told Jay that he was a horrible listener, and that his listening habits reflected that Jay didn't care for anyone except himself.

I've said before, and I believe it to be true, that listening is a form of love. We listen when something or someone is important enough to motivate us.

This is an extension of that theory that I hadn't considered before. Perhaps there are times when no one is more important to us that us. I guess I've never verbalized the idea that not listening is a form of selfishness, but I can see Frank's point.

I've known people who are like that, and at times, I worry that I am like that. I hope I am a good listener. Sometimes, maybe, I am. Other times I get in the way of that kind of grace.