Leaning In

Across the room they sat in a tight trio, round dining table and corner booth accommodating far more than themselves yet they sat noticeably close.

Was it whispers I witnessed that caused each one to bend closer to the other? In turn they bowed to words, and sacrificed to listen. I barely saw their lips move as they shrouded each other’s sentences with graying hair and bangled wrists.

The woman in the middle spoke and the woman on her left leaned in.

The woman on the right spoke and stretched herself across the table.

Food was secondary to hearing and hearing seemed the burden.

The way to share each other was to lean in.

Beside me, Ivan’s blue eyes danced in anticipation of sparring with me over a game of tic-tac-toe on the children’s menu.

“Mommy!” His voice bounced off the back wall and still had the power to pierce my ears.

“Shhhh! Remember, we need to keep our voices at our table.” I was gentle but firm. Assuring him that I wanted to engage with him, and locking eyes with his to confirm that he had been heard. We smiled at each other and he leaned on me.

His exuberance was not fitting for cloth napkins, but I knew he would do well. We just needed to talk. We played. Blue X’s and green O’s never outdoing each other until the last game when he let me go first.

We talked about our day, about where he wanted to go and what he wanted to be and I bent low to listen.

As long as I was close, his voice was stayed. He didn’t need to yell when my ear was close.

The way to lead him was to lean in.

Leaning in when it’s too quiet and leaning in when it’s too loud…it can encourage and protect.

Leaning in when you have nothing to offer, when you are neither able to protect or to encourage, leaning in to understand, leaning in to borrow the pain for a little while…it can hurt like nothing else.

Hearing the strains of brokenness in the voice over the phone and being sure not to allow the steaming pot, the questioning children, the dirty dishes or any other need in front of my eyes betray my heart for that voice.

“Not right now” isn’t always an option.

My mind scrambles for words. For the Word. What did I just read? I want to offer hope, but sometimes I’ve left it sitting on the back porch with my reading material, because I was only a philosopher until 7:00 and it is well past 9:00 now.

And I realize. I am realizing…that leaning in means a lot. Leaning in when the heart on the phone expects you to lean away, because so many others have, looks a lot like hope some days.

Maybe it’s not wisdom, knowledge or any tangible offering. Maybe it’s just acknowledgment.

You have to lean in near enough to feel the tremble of their hands.

Lean in near enough to smell the air from where they’ve been.

Leaning in is sacrifice.

Leaning in takes practice.

Before you lean in to help another, lean into prayer, lean into the Word, lean into the Spirit. He has the strength you need to walk on someone’s uneven ground so you can show them the level path.

“He bowed the heavens also and came down; and thick darkness was under His feet…He reached from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters.” Psalm 18:9 & 16