Jack Hayford reflects on the struggle of wanting to engage in deeper, more meaningful conversations with others but feeling trapped by self-consciousness and fear of social discomfort. He emphasizes the importance of making conversational investments that bear personal and spiritual growth, even if it involves risks and vulnerability. Hayford desires genuine connections with fellow believers, willing to share burdens and gain insights that come from opening up our hearts, not just our time, in a society that often values surface-level interactions.

Recently I found myself trapped by my own self-consciousness. Wrapped in a pleasant circle of friends, I was relishing conversation over several subjects which naturally came up. It was all rather trivial, but adequately profitable. I didn’t feel I was wasting time, and I didn't feel for one moment the conversation was boring. But I did feel something. I felt that I needed to say something that would lead the conversation at least one rung deeper. Mind you, it wasn’t shallow talk. Nor was there anything that wasn't delightful or tasteful. Nothing to fault...yet I found myself letting it all stop at that. Please let me make clear that the casual, the trivial, the merely conversational, the fun, the social--they're all fine. I am not denigrating casual conversation. But only that is a luxury I can't afford. I need to make conversational investment in the kind of interaction that costs me something. Talk, like money, never bears dividends if it isn’t invested. Conversations, like business, involve a risk if they’re going to bear maximum profit. In the case of this conversation, I needed to take the leap. I needed to accept the risk. I needed to indicate in some way that I wanted to talk at a little more personal level... ...without sounding self-righteous, ...without being socially ungracious, ...without engaging in psychological catharsis, ...without coming on as a "heavyweight." But I chickened out. Yes I did. I was fearful that if I suggested, “Let me tell you something that has been very much of a heart-concern to me lately,” that it would jangle something of the social comfort of the situation. It wouldn't have, but I was afraid of looking dumb. I was also afraid I might get a reputation: “He always has to do something ‘meaningful.’” I don't want people to think my “shtick” is turning pleasant gatherings into group therapy. But I do want to become better acquainted with brothers and sisters in Christ than society allows. I do want to bear burdens with people, at the points where they are really living. And I do want to gain insights which only come when we share our hearts...not just our time.