The Power of a Listening Ear

I hefted my suitcase into the overhead compartment and squeezed into the airplane seat.  The man next to me looked young, maybe just out of high school.  He had a small-town, comfortable manner about him, and his newly shaved head made me wonder if he was a military recruit. 

Turns out his name was Nick, and he had just graduated from Basic Combat Training (BCT) in the Army.  We sat next to each other as the plane taxied on the tarmac for take-off.  He was a master story-teller, and I was completely captivated for the next three hours, learning about his life. 

Just beginning a ten-day leave, Nick was completely and beautifully antsy to see his family.

“I’ve got a ring buried in my pack,” he shared, smiling.  He planned to ask his girlfriend to marry him during the trip.  

He had also become a daddy just ten days before.  This guy hadn’t even met his daughter yet!  I teared up as he said proudly, “I didn’t want my girlfriend to send me pictures of her yet.  I want to see her face in person first.”  I could tell how much he loved her dearly, already.

As the flight wore on, Nick told me how his dad had walked out on his family when he was only a boy.

“We walked downstairs, and the living room was bare.  There was nothing: no couch, no tv, no carpet – everything was gone.”  The car was gone, as well, leaving Nick stranded with his grandma and baby sister.  I listened, tears coming to my eyes again. 

“I’ve only got one Dad now,” he said with gentle grief, indicating the sky.

Later, I found out that his grandma, who helped raised him, passed away with cancer while he was in BCT.  His heart was clearly raw as he described the day that he received the letter from home and broke down sobbing in front of his locker. 

“I almost quit Basic then.  The next day, we had to go on a 13-mile hike, fully clothed and armed.”  While on the hike, one of his buddies asked him how he was doing. 

“I’m ready to put this gear down and walk away,” Nick confessed. 

“What’re you going to do?”  His comrade questioned.

Taking a deep breath, Nick replied: “I’m just going to take it one mile at a time.”

It was then that he noticed their commanding officer – who didn’t take kindly to small talk during training hikes – looking their way.  Uh-oh. 

The drill sergeant called his name.  “Soldier! …just take it one quarter-mile at a time.”

That’s what Nick did.  And that’s what he has done, all his life.  He has been through so much pain, but his resilience is incredible. 

During CGA class last week, we learned that pain develops the part of our brains that allows us to make effective decisions.  If we allow it to, that is.  

The temptation that we often face is to flee discomfort, and to avoid pain, at all costs.  But anyone who has completed a physical “work-out” could tell you that in order to get stronger, our muscles have to break down before they can build back up.  The same goes for our brains.  Many people who have endured significant amounts of trauma and have come out of it stronger are able to cope with stress better than others.

Nick has been through so much heartache in is life.  But he has let it strengthen his resolve.  Now, he is a respected Army soldier at the top of his BCT class, and a recruit for the United States Army Airborne School.

“God, what can I give him?”  I asked, feeling helpless.  We were mere acquaintances – but I wanted to give him hope, give him something.

I got up from my seat to move around a little. 

“Are you alright?”  The flight attendant asked. 

“Yeah!  Having an awesome conversation with the guy next to me,” I replied.

“As long as he’s not bothering you,” she queried.   

“Quite the opposite,” I laughed.  “He has an amazing story.  I just wish there was something I could do for him.”

“Sometimes we may not fully realize the power of simply listening,” she encouraged me.  “You never know the kind of impact it can have on someone’s life.”

I pray so.  I told Nick I’d pray for him, and I set an alarm on my phone to pray for him and his new family, every week. 

God, use his life, and his amazing story.  He hasn’t given up on You.  Please show him more of who You are.