After dropping my daughter at school this morning, as I was scanning radio stations I stopped on Pastor Alistair Begg. I've never heard him before, but was drawn in, no doubt, by his friendly Irish brogue. The topic: leaving ourselves open to listen and learn. Obviously his point made reference to spiritual awareness, but it's relevant to practical, day-to-day living. We can miss the bigger message with too much unnecessary talk.
Having one of my girls at home this fall so far has been really good for us. We have long stretches of quiet together, which makes those discussions we do share seem stronger, more attentive to one another. We give more when we speak it. Going forward I know that I need to listen to her desires and goals even more as we figure out this home-schooling thing together.
As I pack and get ready to leave for a week I'm looking forward to that good road trip talk with Paul as well. Usually after some silence to let the weekly tasks fall away, we can get into some good ideas together. I need that significant interaction; I crave it as much as the destination itself.
In addition to some fiction, I'm taking along a small volume entitled Choice Words, recommended and shared by my friend, Frances. (If you enjoy reading at all you will love her blog.) In brief, the book focuses on how our language affects the way that children learn and why. I'm open and ready to hear this message.
I'll leave you with a related poem from an unknown author, as quoted by Pastor Begg, this morning:
If all that we say in a single day,
With never a word left out,
Were painted each night in clear black and white,
It would prove queer reading, no doubt.
And then just suppose 'ere our eyes would close,
we must read the whole record through,
Then wouldn't we sigh, and wouldn't we try,
A good deal less talking to do.
And I more than half think that many a kink
Would be smoother in life's tangled thread,
If half that we say in a single day
Were forever left unsaid.
I'll be back here again in a short while. Be well.