You’re not allowed to say “what.”
A house rule of mine that started as a joke with my sister is now ingrained in me to where the word won’t roll off my tongue without sticking in a few spots. My house is only so big (really, so small) but I don’t like to shout across it to someone. I don’t want to be met with a “what?” I’d rather be heard. Wouldn’t we all?
So, instead of saying “what,” the rule is that you must give your best guess as to what the person actually said. “Are you ready to go?” could summon a guess of “Do you need to mow?” or maybe “Are you feeling low?” I mean, the guesses are endless, and sometimes we throw out an outlandish one when we don’t feel like tapping into the deeper nooks of our brains where context cues live.
So, what’s the point? Am I just a critical host who demands everyone to be at attention and hear me the first time? I sound like my dad.
What we’ve learned as we toss out rhymed guesses is that when we take a moment and allow the message that hit our ears to flow to our consciousness, we actually did hear what the person said. “What” had become a bookmark to hold the page as we pulled our thoughts away from one thing and placed them on another, like when talking to a child who’s mesmerized by the TV. Their ears are fully functioning and their mouth is forming words, but the conversation exists somewhere in space.
Hearing is not listening. Looking is not seeing.
As obvious as it is in an awkward exchange with someone where their expressions aren’t matching my words like a bad wifi connection, I wonder how someone can hear one word and really listen, and another can hear the same and fall deaf. At church last Sunday, we concluded our walk through the book of Acts. I love when the New Testament pulls in the Old, as I’ll admit, I have a rough time muscling through reading the Old, so having it weaved into the New is the best big picture.
“When you hear what I say,
you will not understand.
When you see what I do,
you will not comprehend.
For the hearts of these people are hardened,
and their ears cannot hear,
and they have closed their eyes-
so their eyes cannot see,
and their ears cannot hear,
and their hearts cannot understand,
and they cannot turn to me and let me heal them.”
– Acts 28:26-27
I could miss something a friend says when my ears are fully capable of hearing the words, but I’m lost in my imagination. I have perfect vision, yet I might skim something never allowing my eyes to focus to make out the image. These are unfortunate things, sure, but having ears that can’t hear and eyes that can’t see the beauty of eternity sounds rather tragic.
Would it be possible for a hardened heart to be chiseled with maybe just one word in prayer…one word that a patient God would allow in his house. Perhaps we can lift our voices and ask God, “what?”
And then, we listen. And we see.
