Yesterday I added another: a pastor who listens. For an hour my pastor listened to me talk about my mom. He’s trained in this kind of work, so of course he had a few observations and questions. But what was special, what made me grateful that I have a church, was that this time was all for me. I knew I wouldn’t hear his matching stories; I knew I wouldn’t feel compelled to ask him how he was doing.
Most of us are proficient active listeners. Our friendships include conversations with a healthy ‘back and forth’, which is just what we want most of the time. But I didn’t want this yesterday. I wanted to tell my ‘mom story’, to work out what it means for me to miss her so, and to ponder what my life will be like without her.
Although I didn’t come up with any definitive answers, I feel alive with possibilities, thanks to having a pastor who can listen. It part of what church is all about. Thanks, Pastor Tom, I’m grateful.