listen

She Was Seventeen

| Marie Griffith

I was at the funeral home last night, gathered with extended family I don’t see often. A lot of us together in one place. There were moms and dads, and brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and cousins…..lots and lots of cousins. We’re happy to see each other, even under the circumstances, and we say so.

We smile and hug each other, ask about our families and can’t believe he’s driving already or she’s graduated college. We wonder at the children growing up and getting married and having children of their own. We ask “where did the time go” or say “how time flies.” Funeral homes make us more aware of time. More thankful for it, too.

After we catch up with each other, we remember. We think of the ones who aren’t with us. We think of the good times, maybe the hard ones too. We laugh and share stories. My cousin shared long ago stories about his brothers and sister, of growing up with lots of cousins and playing on Sharrott Hill. Then he recalled something about Mom and told me the story.

IMG_5522He was in 2nd grade and she was 17. She took him and a bunch of her other nephews to see a movie called The Blob. He remembers having nightmares that night. He told me Aunt Jan was always so much fun.

My cousin told me a story about Mom I’d never heard.

I’m glad I was there to hear it.

Attention

| Marie Griffith

Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.      Simone Weil

Today  – give someone your undivided attention.

Put down your phone. Step away from the computer. Turn off the TV……turn down the music.

Look them in the eyes and listen to each word said. Fully.

Converse.

Seek to understand.

Connect.

Learn their hearts.

Love your people.

Live Like it Matters.

 

Immerse

Salty

| Marie Griffith

Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. Colossians 4:5-6 (NIV)

I don’t make the most of every opportunity. In fact I believe opportunities fly past me as I rush from place to place.

Jesus made the most of every opportunity. He noticed.

Everything.

Jesus would never avoid going down the cereal aisle when he saw your daughter’s friend’s mom coming from the other end.

Instead, Jesus would smile at her as he walked toward her. He would ask her how she was doing. Then Jesus would listen as he looked into her eyes. And he would be genuinely interested in what she was saying. Your daughter’s friend’s mom would leave knowing that she mattered. She would be so uplifted by that short but real conversation that she would go home and do the same for her family.

Then maybe her husband would do the same for his hurting co-worker the next day. And her teen aged daughter might reach out to a lonely classmate.

One conversation with Jesus can change everything.

What if I do the same? What if I take the time to notice? What would happen if I slowed down enough to see those around me. Not just see, but notice. Speak. Listen. Love.

It starts there. With the opportunities. At home. In the grocery store. At the salon. In your neighbor’s yard. At work or church.

imageBe salty. Not in the bitter, aggressive, sassy kind of way.

But in the way that brings out the best in others…..”seasoned with salt” as the verse says.

Someone needs you to see them.

Someone needs you to smile and say hello.

Someone needs you to listen.

Be salty and live like it matters.

Listen

| Marie Griffith

We are months into The Live Like it Matters Challenge now and I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am. Remember the point is to make us more aware of our daily interactions with others. Are we kind? Do we smile at others or scowl instead? Do we say thank you? Are we helpful?

Another way to live like it matters is to listen. It seems so simple but with all kinds of distractions at our fingertips we don’t do it well.

I’ve been guilty of multi-tasking while trying to listen and it doesn’t work.

You’re not listening if you’re checking Instagram or Twitter while your 14 year old is asking you about your first car. If you’re watching Netflix while your friend is trying to tell you about her day at work, you aren’t listening. Quit watching Periscope while your sister is asking about your plans for Thanksgiving.

Nothing says “you matter” like giving someone your undivided attention. I mean, “phone out of sight, TV off, looking them straight in the eye like there’s no one else around” kind of attention. That’s how you listen. You look them in the eye and really hear what they’re saying.

Don’t do the fake nods and the occasional glances in their direction and the “yeahs” acknowledging what was said when you really have no idea what was said.  Quit pretending to listen.

Just listen.

Instead of checking my phone when I get home tonight I’m going to listen. I’ll listen as my husband and kids talk about their day, their friends, or a new song by their favorite artist. I’ll get to hear how my children interact with one another……sometimes lovingly. Sometimes not so much. I’ll learn what made them laugh today. Or what made them angry today. I’ll find out if my husband had a rough day at work or not.

Later I will go to my bedroom to wind down and one of them will come in and lie across the bed.

I’ll ask, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” is the usual reply.

Almost always he or she will start to share something. It may be trivial. But sometimes it’s not and it’s always important.

I’ll listen because I care deeply and I want them to know it.

“A good listener is not only popular everywhere, but after a while she knows something.” 

                                    Wilson Mizner

Disconnect

| Marie Griffith

The purpose of my Live Like it Matters Challenge is to inspire you and me to do something to make a positive difference in the lives of those around us, in the place around us, wherever we are. I want us to live on purpose.

The title of this post seems a contradiction then, because after all, we have to connect to make a difference. Every other challenge I’ve issued requires us to connect with others in some way and now my challenge is to disconnect.

I’m challenging you to disconnect from your phone, close your laptop, and unplug your other mobile devices so you can connect in a real way with real people. The people right around you. At home and work. The ball field, the park and the gym. School, the grocery store, church, and the bank. Put your phone down. Take the ear buds out, put the blue tooth device away, and smile at someone. Or even better, speak.

Connect. See. Listen.

I’m as guilty as anyone of being unaware of someone two feet away from me because I’m checking the stats of my blog, or looking at the latest headline from Relevant.

With all of our connectedness, we’re more disconnected from each other than ever. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, or Periscope will never fulfill our need for real connection……face to face, heart to heart connection.

The real deal. The kind with voice inflection and eye contact and touch and body language and all the other little nuances of real conversation. No emoji can convey all of that.

This week, for at least 2 hours a day – disconnect. If this seems absolutely impossible to you, then you need to take this challenge seriously. During your “disconnected” time, pay attention to those around you wherever you are. Watch and listen. Begin a conversation. Look at the person you’re talking with and give them your undivided attention.

Sometimes the best way to disconnect is to go someplace that has no service. I went to one of those places recently with my son, one of his friends and my youngest daughter. I connected with my son and daughter more during that 2 1/2 hour hike than I had in two weeks. No service meant we paid attention to each other. We reminisced and finished conversations and learned things about each other. Instead of seeing the latest photo on Instagram we saw several kinds of mushrooms and ferns.

But you don’t have to take a hike to disconnect. Just put the phone down.

And don’t check it for 2 hours.

In response to the Daily Post’s Hike.

Face-Time

| Marie Griffith

I ran into a friend yesterday.  I followed her back to her office and we sat and talked a while.  It was good.  We caught up, laughed, remembered, and made a plan to hang out soon.  I needed that.

I love good conversation.  My heart swells like a roasting marshmallow when I get face-time.  It’s good to catch up or get to know someone in a deeper way.  That happens through face-time.  I’m not referring to the app on your smart phone but it can happen there.  Can even happen talking on the phone.  But you must be genuinely involved.

Conversation requires a balance of listening and answering, offering your thoughts and receiving theirs.  A discovery of a mutual hobby or similar work, a laugh, maybe some tears, a shared history…….an open heart.  Mostly it requires your full attention.  Your simple devotion to what’s right in front of you.

Conversation heals, brings revelation, transforms, uplifts and teaches.  If you’re truly engaged.

But we give the fake nods; say the phony “mmhhmms”; pretend we heard what was said.  Scattered, distracted, bothered, uninvolved.  We walk away from the conversation unaffected.  We barely offer anything of ourselves and have learned nothing about the other person.

It makes no difference whether you’re face-to-face or on the phone.

Good conversation, the kind that makes a difference, requires concentration and consideration.

Next time you have a chance to talk with someone, focus your attention.  Stop everything else and connect, encourage, inspire, and listen.  Make someone’s heart swell.

It’s the simplest way to show someone they matter.

Prom

| Marie Griffith
Mom and Dad - Prom (1960)
Mom and Dad – Prom (1960)

This is a moment captured long ago…..of youth…….. filled with hope and anticipation.

I wish I’d been there when Mom was getting ready for her prom that night in 1960. I’m sure she spent hours getting her hair just right, taking extra time on her make up, and getting dressed in her beautiful gown and fancy gloves. She’s lovely.

I wonder if her sisters helped her get ready. What did Grandpa and Grandma Sharrott think of their youngest daughter going to prom with that boy?

I wish I could have watched as Dad walked up to the door, knocked and nervously waited until someone opened it. Look at him! His excitement is evident by the big grin on his face. His hair looks newly trimmed and I’m sure he took his time getting his tie straight.

Did his older brothers give him advice? Who helped him pick out Mom’s corsage? Was he brave enough to pin it on her gown or did someone else?

Did they go out to eat before prom? If so, where? How did he ask her to prom?

I know Mom loved to dance. Did Dad dance with her all night? What was her favorite song of the night? What was the name of the perfume she wore? Did he forget to put on cologne? What was her curfew? His curfew?

I had a thousand chances to ask those questions.

Now I have to wonder.

In response to the Daily Post’s Primp.