I'm a Return to Work Coordinator. My job is to manage the medical leaves and workers' compensation cases for my employer and help facilitate the return to work process for injured/ill employees. Five days a week, eight hours a day, I listen to people tell me about their problems. I'm not a therapist. I'm not a counselor. I'm not a soundboard. Yet, day in and day out, employees feel the need to tell me everything. Even when I interject with, "Let me stop you there" or "That's confidential information which you don't need to share with me," they typically keep talking and talking and talking, typically divulging way too much information. They talk and I sit there and listen.
I never understand why employees, perfect strangers to me, feel comfortable enough telling me every detail of their health issues, or why their marriage is failing, or how their teenage son is acting out, or how the ex is wiping out the bank account. Once an employee took off his slipper and sock to show me his grossly swollen and sweaty looking foot (BARF! I threw up a little in my mouth). I hear everything from the weird and bizarre to the hilariously stupid ways employees manage to injure themselves on the job, to the very sad and depressing-here's a tissue for your tears and have you talked to your doctor about antidepressants? Co-workers have told me I'm a good listener. Others have said it's my quiet calming voice that puts employees at ease with me. Still others claim it's the "talker's" way of trying to earn sympathy points so I can help them get out of work. Whatever it is as long as they talk, I listen because that's a huge part of my job.
If I'm being honest, there are times I don't want to hear what employees have to say. I don't want to hear volunteer victims complain about how all their problems are someone else's fault. I resent the employees who work the system by malingering. I can't stand the liars whose stories change every other day. I hate listening to the whiners. The ones who think they're entitled to everything including the kitchen sink really offend me. Sometimes when they talk to me I respond to their ridiculousness by having a seperate conversation in my head, because if I said what I were thinking out loud, it would be most unprofessional. I've mastered the head tilt-nod when I know the talker is full of crap. I show compassion to those I see are hurting and confused.
As much as I try to practice active listening, I'm so glad God doesn't listen like I do. When I listen, my A.D.D. causes me to frequently zone in and out of paying attention. I pass judgements in my head. I correct the speaker's grammar in said head. I look out the window and watch passers-by. I think about how much my feet hurt in the heels I wore. I visualize that sandwich on my desk waiting to be eaten. I plan dinner. I dread returning to my office in which an inbox approximately three inches thick of documents awaits me. I practically salivate thinking about salted dark chocolate while amazed that I'm not overweight considering how much and how often I eat. Maybe I'm not as good a listener as I appear to be, huh?
Thank God He isn't a distracted listener like I am. With the entire world under his feet and constant care, God still manages to listen to us. All of us. Each of us. He listens intently, with determined focus to every prayer, every moan, every cry, every hallelujah. He never turns away his ear from his children. That's freakin' awesome and blow my mind beyond comprehension. It amazes me to know that God cares so much about lil' ol' me that he will stop everything He's doing to listen to everything I have to tell him. It comforts me to know that in the middle of the night when I have no one to call, I can call God and he'll not only listen, but he'll answer too. How honored am I to know that I'm so important to God that he wants me to talk to him and he wants to hear what I have to say, even if all I can spit out is "God, it's me, Darlene. I had a crappy day and don't feel like talking!" He craves to hear all we have to say. God wants us to confess our deep dark secrets and tell Him about our day. He wants to hear us say, "Thank you, and I love you, God."
Thank you God for being the ultimate attentive listener. May I learn from you how to hear and listen. Whether it's my daughter's who need Mommy to shut up for once and hear what they have to say, or a friend who doesn't need advise but a listening ear, or a co-worker who needs to vent, Father help me open my mouth less and open my ears more.
I love the Lord, for He heard my voice; He heard my cry for mercy. Because He turned His ear to me, I will call on Him as long as I live. ~Psalm 116:1-2
