22 Comments
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Danielle Avila's avatar

You had me at "insistent line of questioning", Jen. :) This is an area I, too, am working on. I am well-intentioned but too quick to fill silences. Sometimes I need to not "work" so hard at the conversation and let it breathe. I've enjoyed your writing on hospitality so far- your approaches this week and last have been unique, encouraging, challenging.

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

In a very unintentional way, this series on hospitality has made a little more space for readers than all the to-dos I might have originally planned to explore! Grateful to God for that, which as I say, was not really something I planned!

D Mauney's avatar

This is so good ! It makes me think of a book I am reading “Is it trauma ? “ It guides people on how to help those recovering from trauma by sitting quietly with God and with them , allowing God to do the healing in His timing . It’s the ministry of presence .

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

What a ministry indeed, just showing up without an agenda but to listen.

nancyaruegg.com's avatar

"In quiet company with God, we can learn to become people whose own quiet company heals." AMEN to that, Jen! With you I desire God's empowerment to be a good listener with an understanding heart. I desire my (few!) words to speak encouragement and perhaps a little wisdom, given that my age has bequeathed me the voice of experience! What a privilege to contribute to the healing of another, with God's help!

Laura Lynch's avatar

I wanted to let you know I included this article in my weekly roundup! I just thought it was so good, I really wanted to share it! Here is the link if you’d like to check it out! https://fiztrainer.substack.com/p/what-stayed-with-me-week-of-may-24th.

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

Thanks so much for including a link to this post, Laura!

Laura Lynch's avatar

You’re so welcome! 😃

Laura Lynch's avatar

That was amazing! I've never heard hospitality spoken of in that light. I know for me, something that gets in the way is my desire to "relate," which actually just turns the conversation towards me rather than keeping it around the person. I have worked really hard on this. To stop myself. To really LISTEN as you said is the key! We HEAR people, but are we LISTENING? It's such a discipline! I really appreciated this post so much! Thank you.

Dr Mike & Susan's avatar

Wow, this is really good Jen! So thoughtful... and thought-provoking. It made me realize how much I need to enlarge that quiet space to hear both others and my Lord more.

Shelley Merritt's avatar

Such good reminders! And so practical. Thank you!

Linda MacKillop's avatar

I love this perspective, Jen. I will remember your words.

Michele Morin's avatar

This piece coalesced perfectly with my own hapless attempts to view silence as a welcome guest.😍

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

We writers don't always love silence, do we? We believe in the power of words!

Searching for the Words's avatar

I loved this, Jen. Thank you.

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

So grateful you found it helpful!

Characters & Shadows's avatar

What I appreciate most is the way silence becomes active in this piece. It is not mere restraint, still less social awkwardness dressed up as virtue. It is hospitality: making enough room for God, for the other person, and even for one’s own soul to arrive without being hurried. The point about resisting the impulse to close awkward pauses feels especially true. We often speak because we want to help, but also to relieve our own discomfort. Silence can become a way of refusing to make another person’s pain serve our need to feel useful. That is a demanding kind of welcome, and perhaps one of the least performative forms of love.

Jen Pollock Michel's avatar

What an insight: when someone’s pain serves our need to be useful. Thank you!

Ty Nichols's avatar

You have named something most of us keep mistaking for a failure of conversation rather than its fullest form, because silence is not the absence of hospitality but its deepest practice, the moment we stop furnishing the room with ourselves and finally make space for another soul to arrive. There is a reason God so often comes in the hush rather than the thunder. He will not compete with our noise. And I suspect the quiet we learn to keep before Him is the very quiet we eventually learn to extend, so that our presence becomes a kind of pasture where the tired can graze without being asked to perform. Thank you for this. To say less, on purpose, for love, may be one of the hardest disciplines there is.

Jennifer Harris's avatar

So good, Jen. Thank you for this.