waterview_admin

In 1876, Japan brought a lush vine to America as part of Philadelphia’s ornamental plant exhibit. It looked like the perfect solution to the soil erosion sweeping the nation during the Great Depression. It was planted in the south and never stopped growing. It was kudzu. It has roots that run up to 20 feet and grow 16 inches every day. Each plant will grow 100 feet per year. People have actually seen it grow. The only way to rid yourself of the plant is to kill the very root of it. Hollywood once wanted to make a horror movie about the vine. They called Dr. Jack Tinga, a leading authority on the kudzu, at the University of Georgia to serve as a technical advisor. He wanted no part of it. He told them, before hanging up, “It’s no joking matter. If you come across kudzu, simply drop it and run.” Some things create that much trouble in life. Jesus knew what they were. He used a similar illustration to describe one such weed affecting the lives of far too many people. “The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature.” (Luke 8:14) What kills many spiritual lives is the pressure to keep up with their friends and present a false front of affluence. The treadmill plows worry into hearts and weaken the capacity to respond to God’s word. What have you planted in your heart? Is it a weed that saps your spiritual vitality? Take a hard look at what you allow to grow in your life. It may be choking you to death. -Robert G. Taylor-    

One day, Rhea Zakich found she could not speak due to polyps. Life became challenging. To communicate with her family, she wrote her thoughts on cards. When she saw some of her words put down in print, it horrified her, and she threw it away before anyone could see it. The cards turned into a best-selling game called The Ungame. One card instructed, “share something you fear.” Her husband drew this card. His response, spoken to his boys, was poignant. “With your mother ill, I worry what will become of us. I don’t know if I could bring up you boys alone.” The day came when doctors removed the polyps, and speech returned. But the voiceless time left an imprint. She had learned to listen. One day her son came home shouting, “I hate my teacher! I’m never going back to school again!” Here is her response. Before my vocal-cord problems, I would have responded with my own outburst: “Of course you are, if I have to drag you there myself.” That afternoon I had to wait to see what would happen next. In a few moments, my angry son put his head in my lap and poured out his heart. He said, “Oh, Mom, I had to give a report, and I mispronounced a word. The teacher corrected me, and all the kids laughed. I was so embarrassed.” I wrapped my arms around him. He was quiet for a few minutes. Then suddenly, he sprang out of my arms. “I’m supposed to meet Jimmy at his house. Thanks, Mom.” Her mouth did not make a difference, but her ears did. Listening is challenging because it demands so much from us. We have to give complete attention and, if done well, we experience what others feel. It can be unpleasant. James knew that most of life’s problems come from one source—open mouths and closed ears. That’s why he reminds us: “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” (James 1:19) Zakich found joy in the silence because her heart could hear the hurts. We are all better off to stop talking so much. Just listen and discover the difference it makes. -Robert G. Taylor-