I have taught English for many years. Often we tell students that sometimes teaching English is often referred to as teaching the Language Arts. Then, of course, I do the obvious and ask them if they know what the Language Arts are. I even give them a hint.  I tell them there are four.

Of course, they immediately come up with the first two—reading and writing. I nod . . . and wait. They stare. Then one student, usually with a furrowed brow, remembering that they often have to get up in front of the room and present, will tentatively raise his or her hand and venture a guess . . . speaking? Yes. Speaking.

At that point, however, there are no more guesses. Not even the logical ones who see that if someone writes something, then another person must read it can come up with the fourth. If someone says something, then there must be someone to . . . ? Listen.

Listening is the fourth Language Art and it is the most forgotten, and yet, think about it. It too is something that needs to be learned and practiced. When we teach the students the fifth habit in Sean Covey’s 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens, “Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood,” (based on his father’s––Stephen Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People) we talk about the eight default listening modes. Covey lists them as follows:

Spacing Out (not listening at all)
Pretend Listening (inserting words, “uh huh,” “really?” “neat” so the other person thinks we are listening.)
Selective Listening (listening for a word or phrase which offers us the opportunity to talk about ourselves or about what we want to talk about)
Word Listening (listening only to the words and not to the body language, the feelings, or the true meaning behind the words.)
Self-centered listening (listening and filtering only from our point of view and experience)
Judging (judging what the other person says or even the person as we listen)
Advising (being predisposed to giving unsolicited advice from our point of view)
Probing (trying to get the other person to share feelings or thoughts before he or she is ready)

I bet every one of us practices each of these. It just depends on the situation and person.

According to Covey, Genuine Listening is listening with “your eyes, heart, and ears.” Watch the body language, feel the emotion, hear the words. The purpose is to understand both what is said and what is not said. It means walking in another person’s shoes. It does not mean agreeing with the person, but desiring to truly understand.

No doubt our human relationships would improve immeasurably if we practiced Genuine Listening, but by the same token I bet our relationship with God would improve as well.

For how often do we Space out? Pretend? Judge? Or . . . one that Covey never even mentions––an arms crossed, mouth tight, downright refusal to listen? Or do we really listen with our eyes? Our heart? And our ears? Do we genuinely listen to what He has to say to us? Yes reading, writing, and speaking are all invaluable skills, but then so is listening. Perhaps even more so, for why would James say in James 1:19: “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak . . . .”

One of the most difficult emotions to deal with is loneliness, and by its very nature of celebrating couples and romantic love, Valentine’s Day can often accentuate our feelings of loneliness.

There is a huge difference between being alone and being lonely. Often we find ourselves alone either by choice or by circumstances and many times we don’t mind. Being alone can be peaceful, even restorative. It allows us time to think and reflect, to pursue our own interests uninterrupted, and above all, allows us time to be alone with God.

But, loneliness is very different, isn’t it? And loneliness has nothing to do with being alone or single, does it? Many who are married are often lonely, and many surrounded by others can feel isolated. Loneliness also has nothing to do with age, or social or economic status. It is a condition common to and experienced by everyone at some point in their lives.

Loneliness is a vacuum. Something is missing: love or companionship. As our pastor reminded us this week, we were made in God’s image, and God is all about relationship––between the Godhead itself in the form of the Trinity, between God and us, and between us and others.

Even Jesus, as fully man, had to experience loneliness, probably most acutely on the cross, when not only had most of his friends abandoned him, but even God the Father had to turn His back on him because of the sin he was carrying.

There is no vaccine for loneliness. Loneliness is most often a result of a loss of some kind, and since we live in a temporal world, loss is a given.

But just like nothing on earth lasts forever, we must also realize that our loneliness also will not last forever. There will be others who come into our lives and help fill those human holes.

In the meantime, we need to hold fast to God’s promises to us, because even though we may ride the waves of human emotions, God promises some constants.

“. . . I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” (Hebrews 13:5)

“I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.” Matt. 28:20

“I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.” (John 14:18)

“He heals the broken in heart, and binds up their wounds.” Ps. 147:3

“Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning.” (Ps. 30:5)

Finally, if you are struggling with loneliness right now, I want to leave you with the chorus from Casting Crowns’ recent song “Just Be Held.” May it bless you. You are loved. You are loved indeed.

“So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held.”

This past weekend was a big sporting weekend. Of course, there was the Super Bowl, and Super Bowl 50 at that. But there was also the PGA tournament in Arizona, an LPGA tournament in Florida, multiple college basketball games, and all kinds of local sporting events throughout the country.

In each of those contests, someone won, and someone – or multiple people lost.

The Denver Broncos won. Most of the pundits hadn’t predicted they would, but they did. Why? Whew . . . that depends on who you listen to: great defense, solid leadership, good coaching decisions, attitude, special teams, luck. The list could go on. But one thing was definitely clear—Winning was fun. Winning was exciting. Winning looked a whole lot better than losing.

But not everyone wins. In fact, out of the thirty-two NFL teams, if you want to get right down to it—31 lost. In the PGA’s most recent event, the Phoenix Open, over 120 players began the tournament, 69 didn’t even make the cut,  2 made the playoff and once again, only one won. This was a heartbreaking loss for Rickie Fowler (a personal favorite of mine), not because he didn’t win the tournament for winning’s sake (he has already won four tournaments), but because his father and grandparents had never seen him win, and he came very close to winning. All of us watching could look to when he made a crucial mistake and shake our heads and say “tsk tsk,” Rickie lost because of that stroke or that decision, but that doesn’t change the outcome. In his post-match interview, distraught as he was,  part of what Rickie said was, “I’ll be all right . . . I know I can win. . . .”

And that is what many of us forget in our life struggles. Sometimes we overcome and win, and sometimes we succumb and lose.

There is a reason I didn’t title this blog “Winners and Losers.” Those words define people, as though they are either a winner all the time or a loser with no opportunity for redemption. But neither is the case. Ups and downs, victories and defeats are all a part of life.  Even Paul said in Romans 7:15: “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.”

So let’s celebrate our victories in life and put our losses into human perspective, and hopefully like the young golfer, we, too, with God’s grace and strength can say, “I’ll be all right . . . I know I can win.”

Since my next book is aimed at the 10-12-year-old reader ( tweeners as they are sometimes called), I thought I would talk a little bit about them today. A lot happens during these three years.

My first experience with ten-year-olds was right after high school when I was working as a camp counselor for the summer at the Bob Mathias Girls Camp up near Kings Canyon National Park. Ages ranged from as young as seven or eight and went all the way up to sixteen if I am recollecting correctly. I had the pleasure of spending ten weeks with a cabin full of ten-year-olds. Some came for the two week session, some for one of the four week sessions, and a few spent the whole summer with us.

Let me tell you two things about ten-year-olds in case it has been a while since you have been near one. First, they want to be close but not too close. They are past the huggy stage but not fully into the independent stage. Therefore, they are always close physically, but they are becoming more emotionally detached.

Second, they count. Everything. And all the time. I remember taking them for a hike once, and they counted––out loud––every step––some 6,000+ steps, mind you––to our destination. Then to make sure they had it right, they counted––out loud––every step––back to camp. Still 6,000+, and my guess is it was probably exactly the same.

At eleven they begin to be more independent both in thought and activities. Suddenly, they aren’t afraid to tell you they don’t agree or don’t want to do something. (Fortunately, this budding rebelliousness doesn’t last too long––just until they are about nineteen, with fifteen being a really fun year!)

In literature, twelve is the demarcation line between childhood and adulthood. Twelve is considered the last year of childhood. This is why William Golding’s oldest boy in Lord of the Flies and Ray Bradbury’s Douglas Spalding in Dandelion Wine are twelve. In both, the innocence of childhood is shattered and the reality of life, death, good, and evil gains a foothold.

Like seniors in high school who have one foot still in compulsory education and the other testing the waters of personal choice and decision making, tweeners also find themselves at the cusp of two worlds: childhood and adulthood. It's right about now that they realize adulthood is coming and there is no turning back.