Got words? Need silence?

I, Momma Vaughan, am a talker.  I always have been.  Since I was young, I have had a story to tell.  Throughout elementary school, my younger sister was painfully shy.  That was not a problem because I could talk for both of us.  In fourth grade, I celebrated bringing home a report card that had an "X" by the phrase "talks at appropriate times."  My parents explained that this "X" actually meant I talked at inappropriate times.  I needed to perfect the timing of my talking.  WOW!  Who knew?  At a young age,  I dreamed of being an educator.  As a teacher, I could talk as much as I wanted, and 24 eager students would love listening to me!  To prepare for that future role, I spent many afternoons "playing school" with my sister.  I can still hear her screaming, "Why can't I ever be the teacher???" Praise God that I didn't cause permanent harm to her in those early years.  My sister is now the teacher of a first grade classroom every day!

After graduating from college, I became an elementary teacher, too!  In my 4th grade classroom, I was known for telling hilarious stories.  In my 5th grade classroom, I would oftentimes pause, in the middle of a lesson, to capitalize on a teachable moment completely unrelated to the curriculum.  I remember one student leaving during a math lesson to visit the nurse.  When he returned, I had launched a powerful discussion about being kind and respectful toward others.  His fellow table partner likely leaned over and said, "Put your pencil down.  She's on a role again!"  After leaving the teaching profession, I spent a couple of years as a running coach in a half-marathon training program.  I learned that it was possible to tell long stories while running with a group for 13.1 miles.  I remember a gentleman who registered late for my group.  On his first run with us, I heard him say to the people around him, "Does she ever stop talking?"  A unanimous group of runners screamed, "No!"

This past fall, my daughter began her college journey 12 hours from home.  In those first few weeks after she left, I wrestled with the loss of my "#1 talking buddy."  As the only female, I have gained an increased awareness of the silence prevalent in my house.  My son, husband and male dog have significantly fewer words than me.  During a recent morning drive to my son's school, he leaned over to me and said, "I need you to not use so many words."  A few days later, he stated, "You ask too many questions, and some of them have answers I don't even care about."  Both days, I drove home shocked, once again, at the possibility that I talk too much.  However, as the days of this Lenten season have passed by, I have been thinking and pondering over the wisdom of my teenage son.  Thank you, God that teenagers do, on occasion, have moments of wisdom!

A few weeks ago, during Bible study, we talked about fasting during Lent.  More specifically, we discussed the fasting challenge Pope Francis offered to all of us.  Instead of fasting from our favorite foods and drinks, the Pope encouraged us to fast from pessimism, bitterness and selfishness. His final recommendation was to "fast from words and be silent so you can listen."  This simple sentence bothered me more than I would like to admit.  Within a couple of days, the same words of Pope Francis were on a church newspaper in my mailbox.  These 10 words have caused me to reevaluate how I am communicating with others.  Am I listening to the words of others?  Am I speaking extra words to avoid the silence?  Why have we, as a society, learned to sometimes dread the silence?  Stephen Covey, the author of 7 Habits of Highly Effective People writes that "Most people do not listen with the intent to understand;  they listen with the intent to reply."  Over the past several days, I have been working to "practice the pause" when communicating with others.  I recently asked a church member how he was doing and truly paused to wait for his reply.  This was challenging for Momma Vaughan.  Remember, I have a lot of words.  Remember, I have the perfect story to tell at any given moment.  After several silent moments passed by, he took the opportunity to detail the complications of his morning and how overwhelming the task of simply getting to church had been. I discovered the silent moments allowed me to be a better listener when he replied.  Most importantly, my silence gave him the blessed opportunity to share exactly what was on his heart.

One day this past week, my son came across some old yearbooks at his school.  While sharing his experience of looking through the books, he said, "Mom, life just seemed like it was easier back then."  I had him imagine what it was like, in the days before cell phones, to walk in the school each morning and just talk.  When you carried on a conversation with those around you, they were eager to listen.  Your friends didn't have any form of technology to distract them.  Ecclesiastes 3:7 reminds us that there is a time to be silent and a time to speak.  May we all create a little more silence.  Practice the pause.  Celebrate the blessed opportunity to listen to the words of others.  Hear their heartfelt messages.  I, Momma Vaughan, am a talker.  I am practicing to be a better listener.