I almost never get it right.
Listening to someone's story without telling my own right back.
On the rare times I remember--and exercise the willpower to stay quiet--I am potentially a hero of compassion.
If I concentrate on the storyteller's words and hear his or her heart, without racing through the archives of my life to find a suitable comeback tale of my own, I have the potential to speak kindness and empathy into this person who has trusted me with a life story.
But, you argue, she's just commenting on what she did last night, or her new diet, or her new favorite book, or...
Why can't I tell my version right back?
Oh, you can. In fact, most of the time, you will.
But what if, by telling you the superficial stories, she is wondering if you are the person for whom she has been hunting--a true listener, a true hero of compassion?
Compassion, conveyed well, promotes the storyteller to a new significance. Someone cares about me enough to listen so maybe, just maybe, I am worth something.
Every moment we feel significant, we grow, like a plant, toward the light. We step into life with a little more heart and enthusiasm. In that moment of someone's true listening, we have become known.
Jesus, of course, is the ultimate Hero of Compassion, always listening, always elevating us to significance simply because we are fearfully and wonderfully made by Him. We are so known by Him because He created every fiber of our being.
Are you a potential hero of compassion today? A storyteller might need your listening heart.
Comments are welcome at feedyourstrength@gmail.com.
