The Painful Crusade of Listening

I like to talk. A lot. Take silence and make it captive in our conversation, and I promise you that I will fill that silence with my life story. Stick me in a room by myself, I will talk to myself or indirectly to myself through blogs. Only one thing terrifies me more than silence. Only one thing leaves me in silence. Listening.

Of course not all listening is painful. I like to hear how awesome I have been or in Christianese terms, "how much God is using me." I like to hear how people are coming to know God and I like to hear how we are doing positive things in this world. I like to hear how badly politicians are doing and I like to hear bigoted statements, so that I have something to respond to. But then there's some moments, some minutes, some hours, that you just want to stop and talk. You just want to stop and create some silence. You just want to hang up the phone, sign offline, and shut the door. But there is something in that moment that convicts you that fighting is sometimes silent, sometimes still, sometimes passively active, sometimes different.

She called me. And I said nothing. But I thought.
What? Why me? I don't want to hear these tears. I want to hear this pain. I don't want to feel your pain. I have to be thinking about my classes and my papers and my exams and my ministry and my future and my past and my issues and my girls and my boys and my movies and my poetry. Basically, I don't want to think about you. I cannot ignore your voice and I don't even know what words you are trying to make amidst the endless gasps for air and sobbing, but I hear pain in each syllable your lips create. Why can't you just leave this issue and leave this problem, so that you can then leave me alone? Why do you have to love and care? Why do you force me to love and care? I am starting to understand your pain and I am starting to agree with you? My heart is starting to break for what is going on in this world. But I have to keep smiling. I have to keep pointing and flashing the peace sign, because heck, I am in the middle of DUC Commons and people are passing me by. But during these smiles, I feel for you and it hurts. And it sucks. What can I do? What can I do to end his pain? What can I do to end your pain? What can I do to end my pain? I'm selfish. I need to just stop thinking and hang up. Silence. You ask me what I'm thinking. I say nothing. I have nothing. But I am thinking. I am thinking about the horrible position that I am in, the harsh conditions that you are under as well. I love you...I think. You love him...you think. I love her...I think. But I digress. And I'm confused. And I'm hurt. And I have to go to class. And I have to end the talk.
40 minutes later, "you have nothing to say???" she says.
"I have nothing to say. I can't say anything."
"Hmmm...I guess it is better to say nothing than to say something not for God."
"Yea..."
"Yea...could you at least pray."
"You bet."
You bet? You bet??? I have to. It's the only thing I can do. Maybe it's the only thing I should do.