It’s so easy to spend time talking about ourselves, sharing our favorite hobbies, pivotal moments, and even the hardships that shaped us. Over time, the people we serve and lead might know a lot about us. But how often do we take the time to truly get to know them?
One night, I had a dream that made me confront this question in a way I wasn’t expecting.
In the dream, I was in a grocery store picking up ingredients for my favorite meal and dessert. The store was busy, but I was in my own world, focused on the task at hand. As I made my way to the checkout line, I noticed the cashier glancing at me repeatedly. At first, I thought nothing of it, but his expression caught my attention. He looked almost excited, like he’d been waiting for me to get to the front of the line.
When it was finally my turn, he greeted me with a bright smile and said, “Hey, Mr. Boston! How are you today? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’s Mrs. Keturah and your family doing?”
For a moment, I was stunned. This wasn’t a typical cashier’s polite small talk. He spoke as though he knew me well. He called me by name and even asked about my wife and family.
Caught off guard, I smiled and responded kindly, “They’re doing well, thank you. How have you been?”
He beamed and replied, “I’ve been doing well! I just finished my freshman year of college, and I’m back home for the summer.”
That’s when it hit me. This young man knew so much about me, yet I couldn’t remember who he was. Despite repeatedly scanning the name on his name tag, nothing came to mind—not his story, not a memory, nothing. My mind raced, trying to recall a connection, but it was blank.
Then it dawned on me. He must have been one of the students in my youth ministry. He had clearly spent time listening to me, remembering my words, and learning about my life. Yet, in that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. I looked him in the eyes, and in the dream, the only words that came to me were, “I never knew you.”
I woke up immediately, shaken.
That dream has stayed with me ever since, and it revealed a powerful truth. While it’s important to share our stories, our victories, our struggles, and the ways God has been faithful, we must never lose sight of the storylines in the room.
How often do I take the time to sit down, listen, and learn about the people I’m called to serve?
From that day, I’ve prayed that God would help me be more intentional and more mindful to listen and truly know the people I lead. It’s a humbling task, and I know I won’t remember every single name, birthday, or story, but I’m determined to try.
This shift in mindset has transformed the way I approach conversations. I’ve started asking better questions, creating space for others to share their stories, and encouraging my leadership team to do the same.
At its core, this isn’t just about remembering facts. It’s about valuing people enough to let them know they are seen, heard, known, and loved.
The reality is, the ministry we do is not about us. It’s about the people God places in our lives—their stories, struggles, and triumphs. As leaders, our call is to reflect God’s love in the way we listen and engage, because in doing so, we reflect the heart of Jesus.
My prayer is that I never have to say those words again: “I never knew you.”
Instead, I hope to leave behind a legacy of someone who listened, cared, and made space for others to be known.
Until next time,
Keep learning and keep listening.
