listen!

I've really appreciated James' exhortation to be "quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger" and I've been trying to improve along those lines.  But I was caught up short recently when I unthinkingly cut my wife off by questioning one of my sons before she had finished saying something she was in the middle of saying.  Immediately I could tell that this was very hurtful to her and even though I apologized it took awhile to mend the relationship.  What was especially eye-opening to me was that my son told me that I had a habit of doing this,  Ouch!  Even though I can remember occasions in the past where I've interrupted or cut my wife off I never dreamed that this was actually a regular habit of mine, so much so that my son was calling me on it!  I'm so glad he did because I really needed that wake up call!

But, consider this.  Why did I need another male to tell me this for me to take it seriously?  My wife has told me in the past that I have this tendency and I sort of took it seriously, but not as much as when my son told me the same thing.  And it was my older brother, a medical doctor, who made me really take seriously the dysfunction I was experiencing in my marriage, although my wife had been telling me that for years.  Why is it that we men have such a hard time seriously listening to our wives, that we don't give their words as much credence as we do the words of our male peers?  If there's any place where we ought to be quick to listen and slow to speak it should be with our wives!
I'm convinced that listening to our wives is an important aspect of listening to God.  If I have said this before in one of my blogs I don't mind repeating it because this is so important:  God has given man two helpers:  woman and the Holy Spirit.  How well are we listening to them?  They both tend to speak more quietly than the louder male authorities that we are so quick to acquiesce to.  Like Elijah, we need to be reminded that God's preferred way of speaking is by a "still, small voice" more than by those louder means that males seem to prefer.  Even if our wives should raise their voices with us, or fail to meet up to our standards of what we think they should meet up to before we'll take them seriously, ultimately the voice we need to be tuning in to is that of the Father.  Are we listening . . . to Him . . . to His helpers . . . both of them?

open letter to Dad

                             David Roy Jones   August 24, 1925 - September 15, 2015


   My Dad has experienced the ultimate stripping - the removal of his body of suffering.  He has now entered in to his reward. This is the letter that I wrote to him after his death which I read at his memorial service.


   Dad, you were many things to many people:  a missionary statesman, el fundador de la radioemisora HRVC, "la voz evangelica de Honduras", a friend and servant to the university student missions movement, a faithful husband and father, someone committed to showing hospitality to foreigners (especially foreign students), a good organizer and administrator, and someone who never lost their sense of humor.  I think Dr. Seuss had someone like you in mind, Dad, when he wrote about Horton the elephant.  Like you, when Horton committed to something, no matter what happened, "he was faithful one hundred percent."
   But Dad, I'm not going to put you up on a pedestal.  I know you would not feel comfortable there.  My appreciation  and admiration of you was never diminished, but rather enhanced, by your ability to be transparent and straightforwardly honest about your flaws and failings.  You never hid behind a facade of machismo or let the high esteem given you by others go to your head.  You were a man of integrity, Dad - the same person at home and in your private life as you were in public.
   Your faithfulness at letter-writing meant so much to me, Dad, especially when I left home to go to college and the years after.  You were never rattled by my forays into non-traditional spirituality and lifestyle choices.  Instead you encouraged open communication and a love that transcended our differences,
   Above all these things, Dad, you gave me a foundation - a rock solid foundation, that I could build on and pass on to my own children and grandchildren.  I am still testing and exploring that foundation, maybe in ways that you never would.  But as you now know with perfect clarity, our Saviour - Yeshua Hamashiac (Jesus Christ) invites us to explore with all thoroughness the intricacies and intimacies of his love.
   Thank you, for being my father.  I am proud to be your son,  I love you and will miss you.