Empty questions

I want all of you to read this if you haven't already. This excerpt is from a blog written by Glennon Doyle Melton and it has been shared all over Facebook (click here to see the original blog) While I can't directly identify with her "mommy-perspective," I can identify with HATING the question "how was your day?" Empty questions elicit the same empty answers.

I have a friend here in Colorado Springs who is the best listener I have ever met. Her name is Sarah Smith. She is a busy mom of two baby boys, yet she asks me questions about things we talked about MONTHS AGO! She knows the names of my siblings and my nieces and nephews who live across the country. She remembers what I have mentioned liking and things I dislike. I want to be a listener like her. I want to be a friend like her. I want to ask the questions that make people feel known. 

We have the power to give life with our words. We have the power to heal with our words. We have the power to open hearts with our words. The problem is that when we live with someone day-in and day-out, we forget to craft those words. 

Today, as Daniel was leaving, instead of saying the typical "Have a good day" (WHATEVER THAT MEANS!?!?!?) I chose different words. As he was getting in the car, I said "Make someone feel special today." He has the power to do that very thing, especially in his position of authority.

I love what this writer says about not asking her kids "How was your day" and the questions she asks them instead. I hope you will read her entire blog, here is the gist....

Portion from the original blog by Glennon Melton

Through therapy, we learned to ask each other better questions. We learned that if we really want to know our people, if we really care to know them -- we need to ask them better questions and then really listen to their answers. We need to ask questions that carry along with them this message: "I'm not just checking the box here. I really care what you have to say and how you feel. I really want to know you." If we don't want throwaway answers, we can't ask throwaway questions. A caring question is a key that will unlock a room inside the person you love.

So Craig and I don't ask "How was your day?" anymore. After a few years of practicing increasingly intimate question asking, now we find ourselves asking each other questions like these:

When did you feel loved today?

When did you feel lonely?

What did I do today that made you feel appreciated?

What did I say that made you feel unnoticed?

What can I do to help you right now?

I know. WEEEEEIRRD at first. But not after a while. Not any weirder than asking the same damn empty questions you've always asked that elicit the same damn empty answers you've always gotten.

And so now when our kids get home from school, we don't say: "How was your day?" Because they don't know. Their day was lots of things.

Instead we ask:

How did you feel during your spelling test?

What did you say to the new girl when you all went out to recess?

Did you feel lonely at all today?

Were there any times you felt proud of yourself today?

And I never ask my friends: "How are you?" Because they don't know either.

Instead I ask:

How is your mom's chemo going?

How'd that conference with Ben's teacher turn out?

What's going really well with work right now?

Questions are like gifts -- it's the thought behind them that the receiver really FEELS. We have to know the receiver to give the right gift and to ask the right question. Generic gifts and questions are all right, but personal gifts and questions feel better. Love is specific, I think. It's an art. The more attention and time you give to your questions, the more beautiful the answers become.

Life is a conversation. Make it a good one.

The Big Ones

Boundary. Ah, a word we learn to use as an adult. A word that my heavy heart grew to understand while listening to a poignant sermon at Pinelake or while spilling my guts with a counselor in my mid-20s. I don't know about you, but boundary is a life-giving word. Who knew?
It is a word that actually brings freedom in my life- a freedom that gives room for clarity and courage.  I have been chewing on the word boundary as it relates to my time and on whom I choose to spend my time. Now, before you start thinking that sounds audacious, I want all of us to agree that yes, we give our time freely and without regard to many people who do not and should not replace time with those who are most important to us.

I will never forget something that Daniel said to me one Saturday as we were driving "up" to ski. We were crossing over Wilkerson Pass. It beholds a view that is like a postcard you might find with the word Colorado stretched across; it is a must-stop photo opportunity. You can see snowcapped Rocky Mountains for miles mixed with views of cattle enjoying their natural habitat. It is truly one of my favorite views and I see something new each time we pass it. This particular Saturday, we were deep in the process of homebuying. During our drive, I realized our mortgage company had sent us an email about credit ratings and approved financing options from which we needed to choose. I had my nose buried deep in my phone reading this email aloud to him. Daniel interrupted me when I was about mid-way through. He said to me " Babe, look at all the big things you are missing while you are worried about those small things. You are missing your favorite part."  I looked at him with admiration and said "you are exactly right." I think he shocked himself with his burst of wisdom, haha! For the rest of the drive, we discussed how that is true in so many areas of our lives. How many times do I have my nose buried in my phone (even for reading necesssary things) and forget to SEE the big things around me?

Living 1200 miles from the place I will always call "home" has revealed many life-giving things to me. (And no, this is not the first blog about it.)  I am the first to say that I am thankful for text messaging and social media. It helps me stay connected, but does NOT replace connecting in a face-to-face conversation. Isn't it simple to care about people from afar? To launch a campaign for thousands to see on social media about raising money or collecting food for a family? But when the dust settles and the to-do list is checked off, what is to be said about the way we cherished time with the most important people around us? The people in your "immediate circle"?

I was living in an incredibly selfish season of my life when I lost both my grandfather and grandmother. I regret choosing to spend my time with other people over them in my college years and my 20s. If I had known the sorrow I would feel while grieving their death and living with their absence would cause my heart, I would have changed a few things about how I spent my time in their last days.

I want to forget about all the others (and what there elf on the shelf is doing, of what there child wore to school for her birthday party), yet I scroll through these posts reading and filling my time, energy and heart with other's lives. I notice that I forget to look up and see things around me and ignore those moments that could be memories. I want to have conversations, true conversations with my nephews and nieces and know what THEIR lives and personalities are made of. I want to know what my husband's FAVORITE THINGS are! I want to know about my mom's day (she lives alone and probably doesn't that question very often). I want to engage, WHOLEHEARTEDLY ENGAGE with those who are around me. I want to spend time enjoying adventures.

I don't want to miss the big things while giving my attention to the insignificant small ones.