In life, we often need to listen again to hear the true message beneath the noise.
The first notes of a concert cacophony were more noise than music, as audio waves bounced off hard brick walls. People on the outskirts of the makeshift concert hall quickly fled as the reverberating sound was so intensely awful.
The stream of people walking out of the concert gave me pause as I walked in. I was a guest photographer for this overall event and the concert at the end had been promised as a volunteer perk. From what I initially heard, I wasn’t sure if it was a reward or punishment.
Slightly curious, though, I poked my head through the auditorium doors. It was truly difficult to listen from the sidelines. I even snidely wondered aloud to someone next to me about why the artist was even invited — as if the artist had any control over the acoustics. The initial impressions gave me no reason to stay.
Yet, as I looked deeper across the audience, I saw people joyfully engaged in the concert and happily singing along. I didn’t know the artist or his songs, so the echoing music I heard didn’t mean particularly anything to me.
Even though the sound still grated, I couldn’t help but wonder why others seemed so joyful. Could I be missing something?
The Holy Spirit nudged me to step away from the wall of judgment and take a seat in the center, inviting me to listen again.
Just after the artist concluded a song set, I slid into my seat, perfectly situated in the middle of the auditorium. The artist began to share his testimony, describing how God had intervened in his life, transforming his struggles into songs of praise.
The more I listened, the more I began to appreciate how the music’s backstory gave such beautiful and meaningful context. The former cacophony became a concert of praise. An unknown artist became a known artist.
Since that time, the artist’s music has uplifted my life multiple times. What was once meaningless became meaningful.
Just as I had to listen again during that concert to hear the deeper meaning, I find myself applying this lesson in my relationships — with family, friends, neighbors and even strangers. Sometimes, the noise of the moment can block the message beneath.
As James 1:19 reminds us, "Know this, my dear brothers and sisters: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to grow angry."
As we close out this year and gather around holiday tables, there will likely be lots of family interactions and opportunities to apply this principle of listening again. There could be friendly banter, intense debate or deep conversation. Whatever and whomever you encounter in your table talk experiences, may God give you the grace, wisdom and discernment to listen well and even to listen again.
Table Talk Prompt
Who in your life brings a perspective you haven’t fully understood or appreciated? Consider inviting them to your table for a time of meaningful listening and learning. You might be surprised by what you discover.
