The art of Listening

I run a restaurant. Yes, it’s a tough business. Hours are long and labor is intense, but it is indeed a labor of love, and one I’m quite passionate about. My critics are quite honest. Especially the little one. He is serious about presentation. If the color of a dish is just not right, he’s not interested. And it seems his palette changes every day. Just last week he loved mushrooms. This week they end up back on his plate, coated in saliva, traded for a cheerio. That may just be the ultimate critique. However, the job pays well. At the end of the day, whether the kitchen failed or thrived, I’m met with hugs and kisses from the critics. Now if only I could hire a dish crew…

Gray and I often daydream together about if we were to open a restaurant. Honestly, if we were not going into full-time ministry, that’s just what we would do—open a restaurant. Fresh. Local. Unique. Good. We talk about the little garden we’d have in back, supplying the fresh produce for our simple yet intriguing dishes, changing each day depending on seasons, availability, and whatever we felt like creating. We create this restaurant in our minds as we sit and enjoy meals at other restaurants. Every Saturday morning we go out to breakfast as a family, funded by my babysitting money. We almost never visit chain restaurants anymore. We have come to love the culture of food our area for Wisconsin has to offer. Ma and Pa kitchens, hippy cafes, Fair Trade goodness, local cuisine. We love the care, intention, thought, and pride placed behind the dishes.

However, not every place we venture into gets an “A+” rating. This was the unfortunate instance of our breakfast this morning. After walking through the farmer’s market and picking out our produce for the week, we sat down at a restaurant downtown we had not yet tried. We should have been tipped off to the foreboding negative experience when our waitress took 10 minutes from the time we were seated to approach our table.  I’ll spare the detailed critique of our visit which culminated in a tip of $1.14. And believe me, we usually tip well (as most former waitresses do). However, the greatest mistake, in my opinion, that this restaurant made? They didn’t listen. They had no interest in what we thought, what we wanted, or what we needed. In fact, they never once asked how our meal was. When our waitress (finally) brought our food to our table, she said nothing. She set it down and walked away. I was baffled, so used to a courteous, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” Normally I smile back and say something to the extent of, “No, this looks great!” However, this time I was in need. Both my coffee and water were empty. She walked away. She didn’t have a chance to listen, because she never asked. Grayson ended up walking over to their coffee dispensers and pouring his caffeine-deprived wife another cup of joe.

When Ezekiel was a newborn, I quickly learned how to listen to his cues. His hunger cue, sleepy cue, wet diaper cue, bored cue, and pain cue. I found it came quite natural to decipher his communication styles as a newborn. However, his forms of communication are quickly changing. Zeke is almost a year old. Just the other day I was reading that we are now entering into a testing phase. This week, he has proven this true to me. At each turn there is a tantrum. Especially if we take something away from him, or tell him “no” and avert his little hands away from the trash can, dog kennel, or recyclables….

This must be such a frustrating stage of development for a child, to understand enough of the world to know what you want, but not have any way of communicating those desires. For now, he resorts to a screaming fit-- his frustration of not being heard.

Parenting forces us to learn a new language at each new phase. From newborn wails, piercing through our sleep at all hours of the night, to the toddler tantrums, screaming to be heard; to only be understood because they want that sippy cup oh-so-badly but have no way of telling us. And then, as they finally begin to form words, but have only limited vocabulary to describe the very thing they want. And I can only anticipate the adolescent years, with a new language comprised of grunts, groans, sighs, and silence. I suppose that when we become empty-nesters, we will, indeed, be fluent in many languages. But oh that I will always listen to my child’s heart.

I find that God is using our current stage of parental development to teach me to listen—to Him. If I cannot, by listening to Ezekiel, understand what he needs, then I must rely upon God to teach me and lead me in raising my son. Gary Thomas puts it so well in his book Sacred Parenting, “That’s why I think listening is a key component of Christian parenting and spirituality. It changes the nature of our faith, and it redirects what we do. It moves us from merely a human-centered faith of willful obedience and timeless principles, and ushers us into cooperating with God as He actively moves upon His world. It is one of the ways that we can 'seize heaven' and invite God’s presence into our lives.” And “Listening reminds me of how completely I depend on God to carry out the task of parenting. I’d be absolutely lost without His insight.”

If Grayson and I owned a restaurant, we would listen. We would listen, of course, to the comments and suggestions of our guests. We would listen by watching their responses to what they were served, and how they were served. We would listen by learning about the surrounding culture of food, and what people want. They want tasty, they want fresh, they want local (which, in essence, is tasty and fresh), they want familiar yet unique united into a delicious package.

I value Grayson’s respectful yet honest critique. I note when he makes small comments of how things are prepared, not in a bitter way, but in a way which positively affects my style of cooking. When preparing our grocery list and meal ideas for the week, I give special attention to his mentions of what might be good. Even with Ezekiel, so young and inexperienced in the area of communication, I seek to listen. I watch as he eats and discovers new tastes, that I may encourage and inspire his ever-developing palette in a diverse way.

Gary Thomas notes, “I wonder:  How would our marriages be transformed if we learned to listen to God on behalf of our spouse? How might husbands feel encouraged if wives learned from the mouth of God what kind of day their husband was having and made appropriate preparations for his return home? How might wives feel uplifted and strengthened if husbands would take time out of their day to ask, ‘Lord, what do I need to do today to better love my wife?’ How might kids find strength and warning and guidance and inspiration if their parents would glean insights from the God who created them, from the God who knows their thoughts and who hears every conversation they have with their friends?”

"Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger" James 1:19

BBQ Chicken and Veggie Pizza with Avocado  
The first time I made this pizza, Grayson proclaimed it the best pizza he had ever eaten. 

For the Crust

Mix:

• 3 cups whole wheat flour
• 1 tbs sugar
• 1tsp salt
• 1 packet (or 2 1/4 tsp) active dry yeast

Make well, then add and mix in:

• 1 cup warm water
• 2 tbs extra virgin olive oil 

Knead the dough. If it is too dry, add a small amount of water, knead some more. The dough will become more moist as you knead. Dough should be elastic. Pull, stretch, and/or roll onto pizza pan. Fold edges over each other to create a handle. This crust does not need to rise! It's my favorite for taste and simplicity' sake.

For the Toppings

 Sauce:

• 50% favorite all-natural bbq sauce
• 50% favorite all-natural pizza sauce

 Veggies, Saute:

• 6oz mushrooms sliced thin
• 5 mini sweet peppers (varying in color), chopped
• 1-2 jalapeno pepper(s), chopped 
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, pressed 

Additionally:

• Pulled chicken (I used 2 chicken thighs I slow cooked in the crock pot the day before)
• 1 avacodo, peeled, pitted and sliced
• 1 cup freshly grated cheddar cheese

Bake in a pre-heated oven at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes, until crust begins to brown.