Changing The Question
Have you ever heard your parents—or someone in authority—say, “How many times do I have to tell you before you will listen?” I would hazard a guess that every one of us has heard those words at some point.
Recently, I found myself wondering how many different ways a person can explain the same idea or tell the same story. When someone doesn’t understand us or doesn’t seem to be listening, our first instinct is often to repeat ourselves—only louder, slower, or with greater emphasis. We assume the problem is that the other person didn’t hear us or wasn’t paying attention. But what if the real issue isn’t that they didn’t hear us? What if they simply couldn’t receive what we were trying to say in the way we chose to say it?
Finding a new way to articulate something requires us to loosen our grip on our own perspective. It invites us to see the conversation through another person’s eyes. That takes humility, curiosity, and patience. Perhaps this is one of the reasons Jesus taught in parables. Rather than repeating the same explanation over and over, he told different stories, drawing on the everyday experiences of farmers, fishers, shepherds, merchants, and families. Through ordinary moments, Jesus revealed extraordinary truths. The message remained the same, but the pathway into it changed. There is wisdom in that.
Changing the conversation does not mean changing the truth. Sometimes a question is far more powerful than an answer. Sometimes a story reaches places an argument never could. Sometimes listening is the most important part of speaking. What would happen if we changed the question? Instead of asking, "How can I make my point more clearly?" What if we asked, "How can I help this person see what I see?" Better yet, perhaps we should ask ourselves, "What am I missing about what they see?" James 1:19 reminds us, "Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger." There is profound wisdom packed into those few words. Maybe the conversation doesn’t need to be louder; maybe it simply needs to be different.
I believe our faith continually invites us into a posture of curiosity and openness. If we are to discern the movement of the Spirit, we must be willing to hear God speaking through the voices and experiences of others. Scripture itself tells one great story in countless ways. Across poems, parables, songs, letters, and narratives, God continues to speak the same enduring truth: You are loved. Come home. Live differently. Perhaps we are called to do the same.
So the next time I catch myself repeating the same sentence for the third time, I hope I remember to pause. Instead of asking, "Why aren’t they listening?" Perhaps I can ask, "Is there another story I could tell? Is there a different question I could ask? Is there another way to build a bridge instead of reinforcing a wall?" Understanding doesn’t always come from saying more. Sometimes it comes from saying something differently. May God open our hearts and minds to see beyond our own perspective. When our words fail, may God grant us patience instead of frustration, curiosity instead of certainty, and compassion instead of judgment. May we discover new ways to share God's love, truth, and hope so that our conversations build understanding rather than barriers. And may our words always reflect the grace with which God first speaks to us. Blessings, Rev. Karen

