One curse of the twenty-something (and I can say this candidly because I still have three months till I’m thirty) is that we have strong opinions about life (well, about almost everything really), but we lack the experiences that truly test the realities we assert. We make great claims (often based on things we’ve read or heard other people say), but we often don’t know if our ideas actually ‘work’ in real life.

When my most significant loss is having had my heart broken at twenty-two, or when my biggest struggle in a week is trying to order my days so I have a decent balance between work, play, family and friends,…it doesn’t take much reflection to realize there are others who have lived a lot more life than I have—people who have weathered fiercer storms, pushed through more pain, and who can speak from the valleys and mountaintops about the cost of discipleship, showing more than a few calluses from the rugged climbs and descents.

I don’t want to diminish the life experiences I’ve had that have taught me about who I am, who God is, and about this world; however, I want the humility that accepts I have a heck of a lot to learn. Especially from people who have come before me.

Last week I overheard two twenty-somethings talking about the importance of listening to the voices of the elderly. I jotted a couple notes from their conversation onto a post-it because it’s not everyday you hear a college student say, “We need their voices at our table.” These two went on to talk about change they wanted to see in our small town and how it’s the elderly who come out for the local committee meetings with a vested interest in shaping the future for good. The elderly offer years of perspective and wisdom, nuggets of truth that the current generation may easily overlook.

Unfortunately, I think many of us write-off “old people.” Because they are not new. Innovative. Fresh. Efficient. They may speak a bit more slowly. There’s a chance we may have to sit at the edge of our chair, lean forward, and strain our ears to hear their words. But if we are truly willing to listen, we may be astounded by what we learn.

In a culture obsessed with “new voices, fresh insight” (the tagline of AHA!, Leadership Network’s next online training event), it’s hard for me to pause and appreciate old voices. I’m not dogging on the importance of hearing from upcoming, young leaders (and I will probably tune into the AHA! event); however, will I spend just as much time gleaning from those who have come before me?

As we approach Jubilee, I guess my question is: will I listen to the voices at the table? Since overhearing that conversation in the coffee shop last week, I cannot stop thinking about how incredible it is that we will get to hear from John Perkins at Jubilee. If you know don’t know who he is, check out an earlier post by Derek. John Perkins has an unbelievable story of pushing through pain, dreaming a dream, and doing the work to realize it. What a privilege to have his voice (along with others who have come before us) at our Jubilee “table.” Will we choose to listen?