It's About Time

There are moments in ministry that arrive quietly, without fanfare or warning, and yet they end up shaping the way you see people, see yourself, and even see God.

One of those moments for me came on a day that seemed ordinary. I was on my way to visit a dear church member I hadn’t seen for too long. You know how it happens—intentions are good, hearts are willing, but days turn into weeks and weeks into months, and the guilt of “I really should go” grows louder than the excuses we line up in our minds.

So finally, I went.

I walked up the front steps, feeling that mixture of pastoral love and personal regret, rang the doorbell, and waited.

The door swung open hard and fast.

Sharon stood there.

And without hesitation she said—almost snapped—

“Well… it’s about time!”

In one split second, my mind stirred up a whole defense brief.

I could feel the words lining up in my throat:

“Well, Sharon, you have no idea how busy the last few months have been. I’ve meant to come. I’ve prayed for you. Ministry hasn’t been easy. I truly wanted to be here sooner.”

It’s amazing how quickly the human heart prepares for self-protection.

How fast the mind imagines offense.

How easily we assume we know what someone means.

But before I could let those excuses spill out, before I could explain myself or defend my delay, Sharon spoke again.

“He took a turn for the worse this morning,” she said. Her voice softened, trembled.

“And I’m afraid… we don’t have much time left.”

And instantly, everything changed.

Her words weren’t criticism—they were urgency.

Not frustration—they were fear.

Not annoyance—they were grief.

She wasn’t accusing me of being late.

She was pleading that I had arrived just in time.

In that moment, my heart fell silent.

My defensiveness melted.

My excuses evaporated.

My focus shifted from me to them.

And in that holy pause, Scripture stood there in the doorway with us:

“So then, my beloved brethren,

let every man be swift to hear,

slow to speak,

slow to wrath.”

— James 1:19

This one verse is not long.

It doesn’t thunder.

It whispers—but the whisper holds enough truth to heal relationships, restore families, defuse conflict, strengthen marriages, and soften even the most hardened misunderstandings.

Swift to hear

Slow to speak

Slow to wrath

James wasn’t giving us polite advice.

He was revealing the anatomy of love—how love listens, how love waits, how love slows the reaction long enough for grace to breathe.

Because so many of the wounds we carry in our relationships were not caused by cruelty, but by misunderstanding.

So many arguments were not born from malice, but from rushing.

So many broken friendships have a single moment at their center—one word spoken too quickly, one assumption made too confidently, one misunderstanding left to grow like weeds in the dark.

If I had followed my first impulse that day—if I had fired off my explanations, my excuses, my well-meaning reasons—how much I would have missed.

I might have wounded a woman already hurting.

I might have made a moment about me that was never about me.

I might have added weight to a heart already carrying more than enough.

That’s the danger of speaking before hearing.

James understood something we often forget:

Words that come too fast rarely bring healing.

Reactions that come too quickly rarely come from love.

“Swift to hear” is not about speed—it’s about priority.

It means: Let listening happen first.

Let understanding lead the way.

Let the heart gather the whole story before the tongue gathers its response.

And this matters not only in marriage, but in every corner of our lives.

Think about how many moments each week invite misunderstanding:

Your spouse says something with a tone you misread.

Your child answers quickly and you take it as disrespect.

A friend texts you one short sentence and you hear disappointment.

A coworker speaks abruptly and you feel attacked.

A church member doesn’t greet you the way you expected, and your mind fills in the blanks.

We spend so much time interpreting each other without truly hearing each other.

And into that human labyrinth of assumptions and quick reactions, James speaks gently but firmly:

Be swift to hear.

Listening is not passive.

It is an act of love.

It is one of the purest forms of respect.

It is the way we honor the image of God in another person.

When we stop talking long enough to hear—not just the words, but the heart behind the words—we make room for God to work in ways our speech could never accomplish.

There is a reason Scripture never says,

“Speak your mind quickly,”

or

“Defend yourself immediately,”

or

“Answer before you understand.”

But it has a great deal to say about slowing down.