Posted tagged ‘communication’

Wrong Emoticon

June 20, 2024

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry…” (James 1:19)

In my advancing years, I have done a good amount of writing. My Words From WW blog is closing in on 1,500 posts. Sometimes they’re serious, sometimes ludicrous, but most of the time I try to take a life situation and draw a spiritual teaching or pondering from it.

Sometimes, it’s evident that the reader either didn’t get the point or didn’t read the whole blog. Maybe he got bored, or maybe she got distracted, but the reader still made some kind of comment or gave me one of those emoticons. Perhaps I was the one at fault and wrote poorly enough to cause confusion.

I’ve had a couple of occasions where I’ve read a Facebook post or a text and wanted to give a reply. One time, I skimmed the post, and when the “emoticons” appeared, I hurriedly hit the “Wow” to indicate how amazing the news or the accomplishment was. The only problem was that I punched the wrong emoticon. Instead of the “Wow!”, I hit the “Haha” laughing uncontrollably emoticon. Think how small you would feel if your friend was sharing about the serious six-hour-long surgical procedure he was about to undergo, and you replied by hitting the “Haha” emoticon. He’s about to go under the knife and you send him a face that is laughing uncontrollably.

Oops!

One of the issues with communication is our rush to get through it. After all, there are a ton of Facebook posts that we need to respond to: Sylvia got a new aquarium, Bobby posted a video of him lifting weights, Gladys is going to the zoo, and Troy got his braces off. So many people to give some kind of reply to, so we head an emoticon in their direction. In a time where there is more information shared and ways to share, we listen less. There’s an emphasis these days on over-communicating, while at the same time we “under hear.”

Jesus had a few conversations that weren’t heard or understood. Some of the most religious folk already had decided they didn’t like what he was saying— even before he said it. The disciples often had side conversations, trying to figure out what Jesus meant. And then there were the parables that would have had Goober and Gomer scratching their heads. Sometimes, we hear with our ears but not our heads or hearts. Sometimes, the Holy Spirit speaks to us, but we’ve already determined what the leading is. How might the gospel stories be told differently if the disciples had listened for the deeper meaning? How might the problems in the Corinthian church have been solved if the ones who were always talking, always complaining, had waited for the Spirit to speak?

With social media today, James’s words need to seep into our laptops and cell phones. Honestly, his words are more important in those arenas than face-to-face dialogue because most of our communication is not done in person. Being slow to speak and quick to listen would eliminate most conflicts a typical person faces. It would assuredly lessen the caseload of professional counselors and attorneys.

Pondering James’s words, it seems that more listening and less speaking would also slow down the rise of anger and calm the rage that seems to erupt as rapidly as forest fires.

Heart Cries and an Emoji

March 6, 2024

 “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts…” (Acts 2:46)

A close friend razzes me about responding to a text or message with a thumbs-up emoji. After all, he says, “I’m baring my soul or giving reactions to what you’ve written, and what do I get in return? An emoji!”

He pronounces “emoji” like it’s a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman who has disturbed his Sunday afternoon nap. He’s got a point.

If someone writes an email with several lengthy paragraphs that include their heart cry, pain, or confusion, responding with an emoji is a bit insensitive. Although there may be considerable thought behind that heart emoji, the receiver doesn’t know that. He assumes that the sender gave as much thought to it as the price of a loaf of bread.

Sadly, we’ve become an “emoji culture.” Pressing on an image takes a fraction of a second, whereas writing words with sincerity, thoughtfulness, and concern takes time. Symbolically, many of us have an enormous number of emoji relationships, but only a few of the people we communicate with are friendships of substance. Some might argue that we have so many superficial relationships that we don’t have time to invest in any of them. Healthy relationships, that is, relationships that have emotional depth, meaning, and value, require time. Like a savory stew that needs to simmer, something important needs patience and attention. Fully present, that’s the term.

Jesus was fully present. Can you imagine if He had responded to the leper with a crying emoji or to Simon Peter’s words, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God” with an emoji facial expression of “Wow!”? Thank God, no one has compiled an emoji bible that replaces Jesus’s red-lettered words with wordless expressions of minimal matter.

Jesus was fully present, fully engaged. That modeling of the importance of hearing people’s heart cries and knowing them in more than a superficial way carried over into the early church. People were committed to one another. Even in the depth of their community, there were still the downfalls, such as Ananias and Sapphira. However, for the most part, they were connected. In fact, they were so intimately connected they were known for their sense of community.

Just to be clear, I’m not saying that being closely committed means that we need to be wordy. Like one of my theology books from my seminary days, where a paragraph could be so long that I’d fall asleep before the ending, wordiness does not necessarily mean depth and a solid foundation. I don’t need to respond to my friend’s observation, affirmation, or heart cry with an analysis that resembles a thesis statement. The question to ask myself is, “Does he feel like I’ve heard him?”

In fact, some of us, like in the old days, may simply need to pick up our phone and call.

Cringing At The Disinterest in Being Responsible

February 10, 2024

I was at a high school basketball game last night in southern Ohio. My sister’s grandson, a senior point guard, was playing and I had flown back from Colorado to see a couple of his final games. Unfortunately, we got to the school so early that we saw almost all of the JV game first. I say u nfortunate because the two referees officiating the junior varsity game looked disinterested in their responsibility.

Understand that my view of the situation was greatly affected by the fact that I wore the black-and-white stripes for 16 years, blowing the whistle at high school and small college contests. Not that I was a great official. Above average would best describe me, but all those years of doing games, watching games, and being instructed on the art of calling games has given me an eye for what is professional, what are good mechanics, and what good communication entails.

One of the JV officials wore black sweat pants and shot baskets during timeouts. Those are two things that are okay at a YMCA 2nd grade game…sometimes, but not a high school JV game. Everytime he blew his whistle, which wasn’t often, it was like a mystery about to be revealed. His partner looked like he was about to fall asleep. His walk to the scorer’s table after calling a foul made him look about as energetic as Floyd the Barber from Mayberry, North Carolina.

The game wasn’t close, which would also be the adjective to describe where each of them was in terms of positioning to be able to call the game. The varsity officials were on the other end of the spectrum, consistent, in good position, great communication, and…they looked like they wanted to be there.

Call me critical. Tell me I’m overreacting, but being disinterested in being responsible is something that makes me grind my teeth. Covid-19 and the pandemic get blamed for causing it. That’s a cop-out. It’s been around since Adam, morphing into different appearances and arenas. Jesus’ disciples had moments of disinterest in being responsible. Paul criticizes the Corinthian church for it in the midst of his instruction about observing the Lord’s Supper. Some were coming to the gathering early and gorging themselves without thinking of the meaning of the meal, and others couldn’t get there until later.

Disinterest in responsibility has rained down in every area of life. There aren’t many Mother Teresas around these days who genuinely (That means no whining!) see the poor, diseased, and downtrodden as their responsibility. Heartfelt responsibility is at a premium.

Just as the three varsity officials showed professionalism and interest, let me go in the other direction. I know of numerous teachers who are passionate about teaching their students. Long hours of preparation do not phase them, even when the physical and mental weariness is evident. I know pastors who aren’t disgruntled by late-night calls, some of which are from families in crisis and others from people who just have an axe to grind. I know of numerous people in the workplace (restaurants, office buildings, bus drivers, custodial staff, security officers) who keep their places up and running. When one of them calls in sick, the others look confused and disoriented. I know of neighbors who look out for one another even though no one has designated that responsibility to them. I know of faithful people of prayers who cry out to the Lord for those who are suffering, and they have told them they would pray for them.

Here’s the thing. Disinterest in responsibility is as easy to detect as mayonnaise on peanut butter. On the other hand, total investment in responsibility stands out like Pike’s Peak on the Front Range of Colorado.

Talking Two-ish!

February 3, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                         February 3, 2017

                                         

    “Juice, pees!”

“You want some juice?”

“Juice, pees!”

“Okay, I’ll get you some apple juice.”

“Pees!”

My youngest granddaughter, Corin…or Rennie, is very, very verbal for someone who doesn’t turn two until the end of March. But she hasn’t perfected the pronunciation part of language yet. Of course, there’s a few adults who are still suspect in that area as well!

One day this past week I had the opportunity…and the challenge…to grand-babysit her. It was just the two of us…and the cat who slept the whole time! When Granddad is the sole translator of the two-ish language some things get lost in the translation.

I was sitting on the couch watching her jabbering to her dolls and then she approached me.

“Gip ‘sha, pees!”

“What, honey?”

“Gip, ‘sha, pees!”

“Gip sha?” I sat there like a 9th grader trying to understand calculus. She stared up at me with a look on her face that spoke, “What is your problem, Granddad? Gip ‘sha!”

Rule Number 1 for two year olds! If you don’t understand what she is saying distract her by offering her a cookie or Goldfish cheese crackers.

Two minutes later with cookie crumbs decorating her cheeks she resumed her conversation with the dolls. Like an American tourist in China I had used the common language of food to get us over the language barrier.

A few minutes later the next challenge surfaced.

“Tain!”

“What, honey?”

“Tain, pees!” She waddled over to the toy train tracks.

“You want to play with the train?”

“Pees!”

She lifted the plastic circular track and carried it to the kitchen. I surmised that I was to follow with the actual cars of the train. We settled on the floor and she started her own conversation with all the parts. I have no idea what the conversation was about, but she wasn’t asking me for help, so I sat and watched with great puzzled interest. A few minutes into the train adventure she decided that all of her dolls should also be involved and brought them one by one from the living room into the kitchen…and then the doll crib, and the doll bottle, and the doll sippy cup! The kitchen was starting to resemble Union Station. Somewhere in the midst of the proceedings her main doll baby got placed inside the circular train tracks. I’m not sure if she was being sacrificed or showcased, but the conversation continued. She even took her doll blanket and covered up the main character.

I simply watched and tried to understand. Two year olds have their own world that we are privileged to watch and enjoy. It’s wonderfully confusing and strangely delightful. They create their own storylines and dream up their own plots. They reflect what has been modeled for them, and yet rewrite the adventure in ways that are comforting.

“Potty! Go potty!”

I understood those words clearly! In fact, she didn’t even have to say “Pees!”