Do We Really Listen?

I was doing some work at the back of our house when I became aware that my son had quietly come to stand beside me. I looked up and my attention was caught by some black marks on his face.

Puzzled, I asked, “What are those black marks on your face, Peter?” He was silent.

But as I continued to wait, he shrugged his shoulders and tried to reply in a casual manner, “Oh, I had a fall and hurt myself!”

I looked at his face closely again, shook my head slowly and said, “No, these are not bruises from a fall. These look like marks from burns.”

He was taken aback, but regained his composure and said, “I was trying out some experiments and some acid splashed into my face.”

I gasped and warned, “Do be careful when you do these experiments! And Peter, don’t think you can ever tell a lie and get away with it. It’s so much better to have the courage to tell the truth and be willing to face the consequences.”

He walked away. I sighed. My mind could not settle down to my work any more.

Our son was thirteen years old then and showing signs of defiance and rebellion. I was also concerned at the way he was beginning to tell lies so easily. “Lord,” I prayed, “Give me the wisdom I need to understand him and lead him right.”

Peter was very keen on science and loved experimenting with chemicals. My husband, being a research scientist himself, encouraged him, and bought for him a number of chemicals. He was given a little room upstairs where he spent hours with experiments in his “lab.” A few days later, something happened which shocked me into seeing myself for the first time as my son was seeing me. And through that painful experience I learned the first important thing toward understanding my son.

My son’s perspective about his mother

Our son’s room is tucked away upstairs, so I check it occasionally to see what is really happening there. One day I made my way upstairs to his room and “lab.” As I reached the top step, I halted and looked with horror at his room. Peter was seated at his desk, but he stood up and looked nervously at my face. My gaze rested on a big black gaping hole in the tablecloth, and several more on the bed sheet. Anger began to well up in me at his carelessness, and the damage it had caused. I also found that his school uniform had been burned beyond repair. I only saw the things that were destroyed. I failed to see a little boy trying to find himself, a little boy needing comfort and assurance.

Without giving him a chance to explain or say anything, with angry exasperation, I lashed out, “You have been warned enough to be careful. Since you are so careless and destructive, I am taking this ‘lab’ away from you. By this evening, I want you to pack up all your chemicals and put them away into the garage.

No more experiments for you!” With that I walked out.

This was more than seventeen years ago, but I still squirm inside me as these pictures come vividly to my mind. But that was not all. To my utter shame, I must continue to write what happened next. It’s not easy for me at all to remember these things and write about them. But I know there are mothers and fathers who will benefit by understanding the importance of being able to listen to your children, from a very tender age.

That evening, still with self-righteous indignation simmering inside me, I made my way upstairs. My son met me at the top of the stairs and handed me a letter. Surprised, I said, “A letter? Why a letter? Why can’t you speak to me?”

With tears brimming in his eyes he choked. “Because you never listen to me, you never listen to what I have to say. You are always telling me what I should do and what I should not do!”

I thought he was unfair and didn’t understand. I smarted under the sting of these words. But I saw how upset he was. So I took the letter and came downstairs slowly. I went to my room and began to read what he had written.

The letter was ten pages of note paper in which he had poured out his heart. It was a desperate cry for understanding, for acceptance and for love. He wrote, “My uniform was getting tight anyway, the sheets can be darned, the floor can be cleaned… but do you realize what you are doing to me if you remove my room, my life-long companion? If I had not accepted Jesus in my heart I might have run away. I am telling you of my need for love.”

I saw myself as he saw me. I wept bitterly. After spending some time in prayer to sort myself out before the Lord, I went to my son, held him close to me and asked his forgiveness. And perhaps, in many a home where the parent\teenager relationship is on the brink of disaster, this may be a good place to begin.

I have kept his letter these ten years to remind me how easy it is for me to be a failure as a mother. I may provide the best I can for my children in terms of food, education, clothes, I may even wear myself out doing things for what I think is their welfare and happiness. But what I learned that day was that things do not matter as much as people really do! We show our love not only by giving our children things like money, education, clothes, food, but more, by giving them ourselves, our time, and our attention. We need to take, or make time, to listen to their experiences, their struggles, their dreams.

And it’s equally important for the father to spend time with his children as it is for the mother. Fathers and mothers can get so busy and pre-occupied with their work and activities that they don’t think it is important to listen to and spend time with their children when they are small. It is no wonder when they enter the turbulent teens that parents sit up startled, even take leave from work and go crazy trying to bring the wayward child back. But often it is too late!

At the close of a Conference a young mother came up to me and asked: “ How soon should I start training a child? Five years?”

I replied:”It is already late. We need to start training fron when he is just a baby! For a survey has revealed that the major character of the child is already formed in its potential, in his very early years, before he’s five!”

“Train up a child in the way he should go;

And when he is old, he will not depart from it!”