Rubber-soled socks and open ears.

I guess you all already know you live in a volatile world. Arguments and debates are a favorite among my generation, both in and out of the Christian community.

You know those socks with the little rubber grips on the bottom? Usually they're used for toddlers learning to walk across slippery wood floors. But when people think differently than me, I put on my rubber-soled socks and cling to the floor of my beliefs and ideas like my life depends upon it. Without the floor under my feet, I am not safe. See, I am not a good listener. I rarely spend a moment "listening" without a ready defense and a desire to be right. I don't let people correct me. I struggle to give anyone the space to believe differently than me. I am as stubborn as they come.

But life throws you for a loop every once and awhile, and God is quick to help me grow—something that I am not always so fond of.

Am I confident in what I believe, and with good reason? Absolutely. Am I a perfect, knowledgeable, and scholarly person with all the answers and without any doubts? Absolutely not. Standing strong in a turbulent and untethered world is one thing. But when you are sitting across from another person and you do not agree, what then?

I've been wondering recently about listening as an act of trusting God.

Coming before a person you care for and respect and letting go of yourself to hear their thoughts, ideas, and beliefs the way that they perceive them is threatening to me—what if I listen and never find my way back to the floor? What if I question everything and find myself sliding away from firm ground? What if my doubts are ready and waiting underneath the floor to swallow me up? That is why I never let go of myself when I am supposed to be listening.

But surprisingly enough, I don't really matter in the whole scheme of truth. If we are supposed to be Christ-like, and if we are rooted in Him and what He says to us, listening becomes an act of love and respect for someone else and an act of trust that God is the one who grounds us.

So for the first time, I am trying desperately to listen to the people in my life. I am attempting to allow my questions and doubts out from under the rug rather than shoving them aside. To enter willingly into someone else's position when you don't agree with them is simultaneously one of the hardest things to do and one of the most beautiful things to do. Now, am I going to change what I believe? Probably not. But is the goal in entering into conversation with another human being to “fix” any part of them or their beliefs, or is it to love them wholly? The act of calling others to truth is, I think, governed by God. In relationships, He gives opportunities both to sit there in the mess and love them and to call out and stand for truth. But no relationship should be only one or the other. Furthermore, no relationship should consist of only one person giving and the other receiving. It seems easy when I say it now, but I didn't really know it before I arrived at college wearing my rubber-soled socks, unable to let go of myself enough to just listen and receive.

See, listening is trusting because when two messy people show up for each other, they lose control and God takes hold of it. I do not control what is true, neither do I control what others believe to be true. Letting go of my defenses enough to hear another person is not going to hurt me because in the end, God is the one responsible for carrying us into His truth. And let me tell you, it is amazing the ways He can teach you through somebody else.

words by Kailin Richardson and photo by Sarah Mohan