Tag: talking

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

If we could talk with the animals

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Leohoho on Unsplash

A “through the bible” devotion from Numbers 22.

So far in reading through the bible there’s only been one talking animal, the serpent in the garden. Now, in response to Balaam’s beating, the donkey asks, “Why are you hitting me? What did I ever do to you? (Numbers 22:28)

This doesn’t seem to surprise Balaam at all, who engages in a conversation with the donkey. It’s not shocking for many readers like myself who often find ourselves talking with animals.

In fact, first thing in the morning, you’ll hear me talking to our Great Dane. “Good morning. How ya doin’? Come on, let’s go outside, then we’ll get you something to eat.” A wagging tail and a little wake up howl lets me know we’re on the same page. At the zoo I catch myself talking to the elephant: “Hey, turn around. I want to get a picture of something besides your butt!” Who hasn’t driven by a pasture with some cows, rolled down the window and let loose a long, “Mooooo”? I’ll engage in a little call and response with the birds singing at sunrise.

I know it’s not exactly the same, but I love communicating with animals. The dogs recognize plenty of words like treat, ball, bone, food, ride, and walk. I know what their different yips and woofs mean, too.

As Balaam learns, it pays to listen to animals. The donkey is the one who first saw the angel of the Lord. If she hadn’t stubbornly resisted Balaam’s leading, he would have died (Numbers 22:33)!

What do animals perceive and understand better than me? My dogs have a wonderful sense of who to trust or not. They hear thunder in the distance before me. They notice bunnies by the side of the road before I do. Somehow they know when someone is walking past the front of the house, and they usually let me know.

Talking animals? Makes sense to me.

Posted in AI, Life

Would you rather talk to a person or a machine?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by charlesdeluvio on Unsplash

That’s a really interesting question. Some days I would rather hear the voice of a living, breathing person. Other times, I would rather log on to a website to take care of business. Why one rather than the other? Ironically, when I want to speak to a human, it’s hard to get someone on the line. But in those moments when I just want to get in and out digitally, I have to go through a human.

The phone tree begins with a choice of English or Spanish. Once that is settled, I can choose the extension of the person to whom I wish to speak, which I never know. Then I must listen to all the recently changed menu options, often eight or nine items long. Only after none of those choices suits me can I stay on the line to talk to a real, living, breathing man or woman. How long will that wait be? That is the question. And I am already several minutes into the call. Thank goodness for the speaker on my phone so I can do something else while I wait.

Too often, the reason I am waiting to speak to someone is that I can’t find a way to cancel something on the website of a product trial I signed up for. It’s easy to try out a new product, subscribe to a publication, or install a new app on your phone for free. But after a week or two, you start paying for it, unless you have the presence of mind to cancel before the trial runs out. Lol, like that ever happens.

But many vendors conveniently fail to include a “cancel my subscription” to their menus. To cancel, you have to talk to a person. That means you have to negotiate the phone tree to finally talk to a person whose sole job is to get you to stay longer and pay more.

How much time have I wasted texting back and forth, when all I needed to do was make a simple phone call? Plenty. How many times have I been thankful I could send a text message or an email when I can’t get someone on the phone? Lots. Human or machine? It depends.

I’ve had to call people I really didn’t want to talk to. As the phone rang, I mentally hoped a machine would pick up. Then I could leave a message and get out.

And then there are those who I really need to talk to who never answer. Phone wasn’t on? Dead battery? Didn’t want to talk to me? Who knows? I’ve actually written a note and mailed it to someone I was trying to get in touch with. Maybe they will give me a call.

If I ask Siri to take me to a certain address, she never asks, “Why do you want to go there?” If I order my pizza through an app, no one questions me when I add extra cheese. It’s just so much easier.

Soon I won’t be able to tell if I am talking with a real person or a machine. That’s scary.

Posted in Moments of grace

“What a waste of time.”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Joe L. was a friend of a friend I got to know a few years ago. I think he was a little younger than me, a United States marine, and had done quite a bit of work with the homeless before he had to retire with disability. Because of a variety of ailments, I occasionally visited him in hospitals, rehab facilities and at his home.

He knew I was a pastor, but we never talked too much about God. He was straightforward about what made him angry, what he wanted, what he needed and what he thought about others. I enjoyed that about him. I knew where I stood with Joe. No games. No pretense. No pretending.

One time I thanked him for that. He replied, “Why are you thanking me?”

I said, “Well, most of the time people tell me what they think I want to hear.”

Joe said, “What a waste of time.”

I have often thought about that conversation and that gem of wisdom. It is so true. There are precious few people with whom we can be completely honest and say what’s on our minds. We harbor far too many fears about what others will think of us, so we rarely express how we feel. And if Joe’s perspective is correct, we waste a lot of time telling people what they want to hear.

I’ve spent a lot of time on the phone this past year. Some people are still distancing from worship at church, so I just call and say, “Hi. I was just checking in to be sure you were well. What can we do for you?” After a while, the responses are predictable.

“Oh. Hi, Pastor. We were just talking about how we need to get back to church.”
“Don’t worry Pastor, we are mailing our offerings to the church.”
“I know we haven’t been to church lately, Pastor, but don’t worry, we still pray every day.”
“Pastor, we are still staying home, just to be safe. We don’t go anywhere, except for our doctors, the grocery store, the post office, physical therapy and the veterinarian.”

All I wanted to know was if you’re healthy and have everything you need.

Of course, we in ministry are guilty of the same thing. How often do I tell someone what I am really thinking about them? How often have I dulled the edges of my preaching so as not to offend as few people as possible? How often do I simply keep my mouth shut? It’s a skill you learn early in life and perfect as the years go on.

A lot depends on how you say something. There’s a time and place for honesty, but it’s also important to listen and understand before you speak. I believe you also need to examine your motives. Why are you telling someone something? To help them, or to hurt them? Is it for their benefit, or to make yourself feel good?

And of course, the more important skill is listening. Listening is never a waste of time. I always learn something. And I often hear what I need to hear, not just what I want to hear.

Posted in listening, Ministry

Just listen.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

listenMy friend J. stopped by the other day to cancel a lunch appointment later in the week. He had to go out of town, so we’d get together some time in the future. He could have called, but he was out and around, so he came to the church to talk to me. And he did, for about fifteen minutes, about all kinds of things. Standing in the hallway, I just listened and nodded as he wandered seamlessly from topic to topic.

The last time I went to visit S., he was in a pretty good mood and shared with me his plan to regain enough strength and balance in his legs to leave the nursing home and move back home. After my initial greeting, I didn’t have to say much. He had mastered the art of speaking without periods. Every sentenced ended with a comma-like pause, and segued into the next thought, story, complaint or reflection. Sitting there, I just listened and nodded for about thirty minutes.

My visit to K. found her in good spirits even though she would not be going home. Case workers were searching for a suitable assisted living situation for her. She too had much to say about her family, friends, and possible future. Thirty minutes into the visit, I had only spoken two sentences as she chatted about everything and everyone.

S. topped by the church office with a question, which led to additional questions, apologies for having so much to say, and lengthy stories which never quite reached a conclusion. Twenty-five minutes of listening and nodding.

I believe these and many others are simply starved for someone to talk to. They are either alone most of the time or just don’t have anything left to say to those they live with and are famished for conversation. So I listen. And I tell myself over and over in my mind, “They need to talk. Just listen.”

With more and more ways to communicate, we actually talk to fewer and fewer people. Instead of calling to order a pizza, I use an app. I exercise with virtual people on DVDs. I reserve boarding dates for my dog via a popup chat box. I don’t know if there is a real person on the other end or not. I’ve gotten a rental car at a kiosk with a screen and a talking head, rather than from a person on the other side of a desk. I get texts instead of phone calls. A machine at the grocery store tells me what my blood pressure is.

I’m comfortable with all the technology and use it all the time. But my day is also peppered with phone and in-person conversations with people that I know well as well as those I’ve just met. But one day, if I don’t (or can’t) go out much, and have outlived some of the people I used to talk to, I’ll bet I’ll crave someone, anyone, to talk to, too.

So I’m paying it forward now. Go ahead and talk. I promise to listen.