Who Will You Choose to Listen To?

A friend of mine has a son who's a senior in high school, and this young man loves football with a passion. So when an injury sidelined him recently, his world felt like it was crashing down on him.

After a preliminary exam, the doctor delivered what felt like a death sentence: he was concerned this young man would never play football again. No official tests had been run yet. No comprehensive evaluation completed. Just a quick look and a devastating opinion that a seventeen-year-old would have to live with for over a week.

When the actual test results came back, they revealed that everything would be fine. He'd recover completely and return to the game he loved. But here's the thing about seeds of fear—once planted, they're really hard to uproot. Even with good news, this young man is still wrestling with that initial discussion, still battling the "what ifs" that doctor carelessly planted in fertile, worried soil.

My friend found one of our blog posts on courage and sent it to his son, saying it was exactly what he needed during this difficult time. But their situation created a question that's been rolling around in my mind ever since: Who are we listening to? More importantly, who should we be listening to? And most importantly, who are we allowing to plant seeds in our hearts and minds?

Think about this for a moment. This wasn't the family's trusted physician who had been caring for this boy for years. Yet his words carried enough weight to torment a young man and his family for over a week.

We do this all the time, don't we? We listen to voices that have no business shaping our decisions or our self-perception. We listen to the criticism of acquaintances while dismissing the advice of those who know us best. We let the snap judgments of strangers plant seeds of doubt about dreams we've held for years.

I've certainly been guilty of this throughout my life. In my journey toward self-awareness, I've discovered a pattern that's both embarrassing and thought-provoking: I've often listened most to those who loved me least, while dismissing the wisdom of those who loved me most.

My wife Lora is the perfect example of someone I should always listen to—and I've learned some hard, painful lessons in that area. I tuned out the voice of the person who knew me best and wanted what was best for me, and have suffered the consequences of listening to my own stubborn voice instead of the wise counsel of someone who truly loved me.

This pattern of poor listening extended into other areas of my life too.

Several years ago, I crafted a “why” statement that read: "To be a person of influence rather than position, helping others get what they want out of life so that at the end of my life, those who know me and love me wish for one more day."

I was proud of that statement. I taught on it. Others who didn't really know me loved it. But Lora? She absolutely hated the introduction, “to be a person of influence.” For the longest time, I dismissed her feelings about it. After all, what was wrong with wanting to be influential? But Lora's feelings weren’t about the heart behind the statement—it was about something deeper she could see that I couldn't.

During a church service where we were learning about communication, it finally hit me. The word "influence" has become tainted in our social-media age, tied to narcissism and self-promotion. Lora wasn't reacting to my desire to help others; she was warning me about how I was expressing that desire.

As I thought on it further, the word "guide" hit me with clarity. My why statement transformed: "I am a guide, not a person of position, helping others get what they want out of life so that at the end of my life, those who know me and love me wish for one more day."

The difference might seem subtle, but it’s actually huge. Influence suggests power over others. Guiding suggests coming alongside others.

The really good guides in our lives share certain characteristics. They come alongside you to help you see things you couldn't see on your own. They provide encouragement. Most importantly, they never shame you when you mess up—that's exactly why they're positioned in your life.

Good guides help you go further, faster, because they offer you the depth of their experience without requiring you to live through every mistake yourself. In the beginning of any guide relationship, there's a lot of "give trust, earn trust." You have to be willing to listen to them, even when—especially when—you don't want to hear what they're saying.

The gift we have in our spouses and significant others is that they're perfectly positioned to serve as guides in our lives. They see us in our most vulnerable moments. They start to recognize our patterns over time. They're invested in our success not for what they can get from us, but because our happiness affects their own.

So how do we discern who deserves a voice in our lives? Here are the questions I've learned to ask:

Do they know me well? Random doctors and casual acquaintances don't qualify as trusted advisors, no matter how confident they sound.

Do they love me? People who are genuinely invested in your happiness offer different advice than those who don’t care as much.

What's their motivation? Are they speaking from love, wisdom, and genuine concern, or from their own agenda, jealousy, or need to feel important?

The doctor who terrified my friend's son failed most of these tests. He didn't know the young man, had no investment in his future, and spoke prematurely from incomplete information.

His words carried weight because of his position and the vulnerable moment in which they were delivered.

Sometimes the hardest part isn't identifying the right voices—it's having the courage to listen when they tell us things we don't want to hear. Lora's concerns about my “why” statement challenged something I was proud of and had invested time developing.

But here's what I've learned: the people who love you most will risk your brief moment of discomfort to protect your long-term wellbeing.

The young football player in my friend's story is learning this lesson early. The fear planted by a doctor who didn’t have all the facts nearly overshadowed the hope offered by actual medical evidence. But with the right guidance and perspective, he's discovering how to discern which voices deserve influence in his life.

The question isn't whether we'll listen to someone—we're always listening to someone. The question is whether we'll be intentional about choosing voices that guide us toward wisdom, growth, and authentic success, or whether we'll let random strangers plant seeds of fear and doubt in the fertile soil of our hearts and minds.

Choose your guides carefully. Listen to those who love you most. And remember: the people positioned closest to your life often see what you cannot see about yourself.