understanding

Lately it seems like every time I have a real conversation--you know the kind where you both pay attention and actually care about what the other person is saying--someone ends up in tears. It happened twice yesterday.

You might think this would deter me from having real conversations, but in fact the opposite is true. I've never been one to cry easily in front of others, so I know that real tears stemming from real conversations means something.

In today's world of communication, our exchanges are limited to 140 characters and "like" buttons. Last month I had a 30-minute text message conversation entirely in emoticons.

While this is "acceptable," I think it also serves to deepen our longing to connect, to be in relationship, to feel understood.

I feel affirmed when a dozen people like my status update, even more so when they "share" it. But nothing compares to sitting in the same room crying over episodes of Parenthood while drinking long island ice teas, or sharing how isolating following God's call on your life can be, or holding hands under the covers and talking about wounds that may not be fresh but still run deep.

This year I'm going to EMBRACE UNDERSTANDING as an essential part of wholeness, seeking to be an understanding ear/voice/shoulder and not shying away from sharing my own need to be understood.


Reading The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.


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