Notes From Day Seven: Sometimes you just have to listen
Many years ago, I met a student preparing
to become a pastor, or as some might like to
say, a priest or a minister of religion. He was
serving for the summer in a nearby church, a
church in Forest, Ontario, on the shore of
Lake Huron. I was very interested in what he
was doing because at the time I felt that God
was nudging me into becoming a pastor. But
I was not sure what to expect.
Adrian (the young man), however, gave me a clue as to one of the things I could look forward to. He asked me if I knew how to “actively listen.” His question challenged me because up to that point I had assumed that just by staying in the same room while someone was talking to me I was listening. His question, the more I thought about it, opened up for me the possibility that I could listen to what someone was saying in a way that would reveal to me the things that are really important to him or her. And maybe, if I listened, I would also hear something from God.
Sometimes you just have to listen. Last Sunday a couple invited me to their home. The home is really a modest cottage that they fixed up. It sits on the edge of a rocky cliff overlooking the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia where I live. At first our conversation was about how fortunate they were to have found an inexpensive coastline property a decade ago, how they had fixed up the shack that was on it, and the spectacular view we had of blue sky and even bluer water. But it soon became clear that what they wanted to talk about most was the near death experience he had had.
Sometime after they bought the cottage he was there by himself. He placed a lawn chair at the edge of a steep drop to the rock below. At some point he twisted around in the chair. A leg of the chair snapped. Gravity took over. He rolled backwards and fell 11 metres to a rocky shelf. He woke up knowing that if he did not get up the tide would come in and possibly drown him. His next conscious memory is of waking up face down in the grass and dirt next to where he had fallen from. He called out for help and his neighbour, hearing him, called 9-1-1.
To this day he cannot understand how he ended up in the grass, 11 metres above the rocky shelf where he had landed. The reason it is so difficult to understand his return to the top of the drop off is that he sustained a punctured lung, three broken ribs, a deep gash to the head, a broken leg, a bruised heart, and other organ trauma.
His injuries were so extensive that the doctors who treated him gave him a 10 per cent chance of survival.
Remarkable though his story was I realized as he was telling it to me that he wanted to say something that was for him truly significant. He believes that God or angels carried him from the bottom of that 11 metre drop. He does not believe he could have moved himself. And more than that, he believes that God allowed his survival for a purpose, the purpose of doing good for other people.
On my plate when we sat down for lunch was an unusual object (for the top of a plate). My hosts had put a small wooden plaque on it. On the plaque are these words, “Today holds renewed strength and opportunities to bless others.”
What were my hosts trying to say to me? They were offering more than a story of an amazing rescue from death. I think they were offering me more than even their faith that God had rescued him through a miracle, and even more than that they believed that God's purpose for his being alive was to share good with the people they meet. I believe that also they were saying to me that in my own life I have the opportunity to share blessing and happiness with others.
Was I hearing more than the stories, the faith, and the purposes of my friends? Was I also hearing God speak to me that afternoon? Sometimes you have to stay quiet and just listen.
Michael Veenema was a chaplain at the college until 2004. He continues to write.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
Adrian (the young man), however, gave me a clue as to one of the things I could look forward to. He asked me if I knew how to “actively listen.” His question challenged me because up to that point I had assumed that just by staying in the same room while someone was talking to me I was listening. His question, the more I thought about it, opened up for me the possibility that I could listen to what someone was saying in a way that would reveal to me the things that are really important to him or her. And maybe, if I listened, I would also hear something from God.
Sometimes you just have to listen. Last Sunday a couple invited me to their home. The home is really a modest cottage that they fixed up. It sits on the edge of a rocky cliff overlooking the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia where I live. At first our conversation was about how fortunate they were to have found an inexpensive coastline property a decade ago, how they had fixed up the shack that was on it, and the spectacular view we had of blue sky and even bluer water. But it soon became clear that what they wanted to talk about most was the near death experience he had had.
Sometime after they bought the cottage he was there by himself. He placed a lawn chair at the edge of a steep drop to the rock below. At some point he twisted around in the chair. A leg of the chair snapped. Gravity took over. He rolled backwards and fell 11 metres to a rocky shelf. He woke up knowing that if he did not get up the tide would come in and possibly drown him. His next conscious memory is of waking up face down in the grass and dirt next to where he had fallen from. He called out for help and his neighbour, hearing him, called 9-1-1.
To this day he cannot understand how he ended up in the grass, 11 metres above the rocky shelf where he had landed. The reason it is so difficult to understand his return to the top of the drop off is that he sustained a punctured lung, three broken ribs, a deep gash to the head, a broken leg, a bruised heart, and other organ trauma.
His injuries were so extensive that the doctors who treated him gave him a 10 per cent chance of survival.
Remarkable though his story was I realized as he was telling it to me that he wanted to say something that was for him truly significant. He believes that God or angels carried him from the bottom of that 11 metre drop. He does not believe he could have moved himself. And more than that, he believes that God allowed his survival for a purpose, the purpose of doing good for other people.
On my plate when we sat down for lunch was an unusual object (for the top of a plate). My hosts had put a small wooden plaque on it. On the plaque are these words, “Today holds renewed strength and opportunities to bless others.”
What were my hosts trying to say to me? They were offering more than a story of an amazing rescue from death. I think they were offering me more than even their faith that God had rescued him through a miracle, and even more than that they believed that God's purpose for his being alive was to share good with the people they meet. I believe that also they were saying to me that in my own life I have the opportunity to share blessing and happiness with others.
Was I hearing more than the stories, the faith, and the purposes of my friends? Was I also hearing God speak to me that afternoon? Sometimes you have to stay quiet and just listen.
Michael Veenema was a chaplain at the college until 2004. He continues to write.
Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
