the gift of listening

Yesterday, I was given a gift.

No...it wasn't the coffee that spilled behind me at church, keeping three of us busy mopping it up with napkins as it slowly ran under the seats and down the slanted floor in the auditorium.

No...it wasn't the opportunity to help clean-up nor the embarrassed thanks of the woman sitting behind me (whose coffee it was that spilled).

No...it wasn't even the friendly smile she gave me after the service was over.

All of those things contributed to opening conversation between that woman and myself. But in and of themselves, those things weren't really the gift. The gift was Jonna's openness, continued questions, and willingness to LISTEN.

She listened while I talked of missing James. She showed concern (but not discomfort or fear) when tears rolled down my cheeks as I talked. She invited further conversation about James. She listened as I told her a little more about his last few days, about the apparent seizures, about the "angel" (in the form of a Jehovah's Witness who came to my door) that God sent with encouragement and information about post-seizure suicidal impulses. She listened to all this and more. And, she cried with me. She shared how this information was encouragement to her as well. (Her husband has struggled with despair and epilepsy for years.)

Yes, it was a help to me to know that something we have learned through this hard journey could be of encouragement to another. But the most important help...and gift...was

She LISTENED to me...