Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.—James 1:19 (NIV)

“Gotta go. I’m back home now, and Chuck expects dinner,” I said to my friend Rosemary on the phone. 

She laughed. “OK then, goodbye. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

I disconnected the call, glad for a chance to talk to my lifelong friend, taking the opportunity to call her while walking in the neighborhood. Multitasking, you know. It was important for us to stay in touch, even though our conversations were infrequent. I stayed busy, but Rosemary always had time to talk, encourage, and laugh with me. 

She’s always been a steadfast, loyal friend, the person I could talk to about anything. Being a good listener is one of her strengths, plus she understands me and never criticizes. Sometimes she offers suggestions but not in a judgmental way. I always feel better after our conversations. 

When I told my husband, Chuck, I had talked to her, he asked me how she was and how her family was doing. I froze because I didn’t know how to answer him. With a sickening, sinking weight in my heart, I realized I didn’t know because I never asked her. I was the talker. She was the listener. Our conversations weren’t really conversations because I was the only one talking. As this truth settled into my mind, I wondered how she had tolerated me and my selfishness so long. I determined right then to make a concentrated effort to talk less in our future conversations. To do so, I would ask about her family, then really listen to her answers instead of trying to think of the next thing I would say.