“Why did you pack the dishwasher like that?”
“You left the light on.”
“Go to the doctor. You’ve got to stop the snoring.”
I am definitely the queen of nitpicking. At my husband.
It’s so easy for me to find all the ways he just doesn’t do “it” right.
Or the way I think is right. Whatever “it” is.
It’s so stinkin’ easy.
It’s also so stinkin’ harmful.
It perpetuates shame.
It silently mocks, “I’m better than you.”
It is a destroyer of connection.
I don’t want to be the queen of this.
I just DO NOT.
I want to bring grace.
I want to build up.
I want to foster deep intimate connection.
I want to be an agent of healing.
So today, I will call out my husband.
I will yell for the world, and mostly myself, to hear.
“He folded all the laundry.”
“He walked me through a very hard conversation, bringing me much wisdom and guidance.”
And guess what else?!?
Guess what else?!?
“He cut these flowers from our garden and placed them right next to my bed!!”
It is so stinkin’ easy to find all the things that are wrong.
But it’s so much better to see all the things that are right.
WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?
Inner Critic: “You cannot stay on a workout regimen save your life.”
Inner Cheerleader: “Start with 15 minutes again tomorrow. You’ve done it before . You can do it again. ”
Inner Critic: “Your friends are probably so angry with you because you are not checking in with them as much as you used to. It’s your fault if they don’t stick around.”
Inner Cheerleader: “You have had to narrow down how much you are pouring out into people for your own well-being. You’ve done that so that you can be a better friend.”
Inner Critic: “You should NOT spend so much at the grocery store. You need to stick to a list.”
Inner Cheerleader: “It costs just a bit more to eat healthy, which has been a goal for you and your family. Keep up the good work!”
Inner Critic: “I can’t believe you are so racist?”
Inner Cheerleader: “You are learning to listen to those who are not like you. You will grow and change. You always have.”
Inner Critic: “Why do you tell people you have a good marriage? You just had another fight with your husband.”
Inner Cheerleader: “Look how far you have come from the early days. You’ve seen how sometimes conflict brings closeness. You have helped so many other couples because you can admit you struggle too.”
Inner Critic: “You will never get to those boxes in the basement that need to be organized.”
Inner Cheerleader: “You have been sorting through many things in your life, not all of them visible to the outside world. You will get to it when you are ready.”
Inner Critic: “You know that cookie you ate? You blew it again.”
Inner Cheerleader: “You know that cookie you ate? Good for you for showing yourself it’s not about perfection, but about grace.”
Inner Critic: “You didn’t set good boundaries again with your kids. When will you get this right?”
Inner Cheerleader: “Being a mom is a hard job, no matter how old your kids are. Boundaries are tricky and complicated and you are really doing what you think is right in each different situation. Also, you are really good at saying you are sorry when you blow it.”
Inner Critic: “Why do you even bother to give advice? To share your heart? To try to make a difference?”
Inner Cheerleader: “You don’t do it because you have it all together. You do it because you are broken too and it’s in this broken place that we all heal each other.”
WHICH VOICE HEAPS SHAME AND DESTROYS?
WHICH VOICE WHISPERS GRACE AND BRINGS HEALING?
WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?
In these unprecedented times, I have been asked over and over again, “What are you doing about ______________?”
I’ve been asked about food prep, my mental health, my routine, church, etc.
Because of this, I want to offer short videos answering those questions over the next several days, weeks, etc.
I plan to give you practical HELP and glimmers of HOPE as we navigate our new normal together. I promise to sprinkle lots of HUMOR throughout as well.
Today, I am answering the question, “What am I doing about my anger?”
JOIN ME AND FIND OUT. (I know you have the time hahaha)
One very ordinary Thursday, a precious friend poured out her heart to me about her son’s death by suicide.
“She’s gone,” I heard my brother say on the other end of the line. “We sang and prayed with her.” His wife had succumbed to cancer on that fall Saturday morning.
I received a terrible phone call that my best friend from high school’s two daughters were killed in a wrong-way crash by a drunk driver. It was Good Friday.
“Do you want me to come over?” I asked my close friend as soon as she spilled the ugly news that her brother had taken his own life.
I could go on and on and on. Loss. Death. Unstoppable grief.
So much sadness. So little understanding.
Each person loved so fiercely.
Each tender one lost too early.
Each story shared bravely with me.
Nothing is more sacred than to share another’s pain. It brings both great sorrow and surprising healing. Each time I enter into this very “holy ground” space, I count it as one of the greatest gifts I will ever know in this lifetime, the gift of another in their most vulnerable and real and raw place. Sheer, terrible beauty.
For those of you who have wildly loved and lost a precious someone, I pray today that you would find a safe space to share your true heart, the one that might be hurting. I pray that those who listen would dive deep and sit still and share some measure of your grief and suffering, so that you would feel unexplainably loved and cared for. I pray that in God’s vast wisdom, compassion, kindness, mercy and love, He brings unfathomable healing to you in the places only He can reach.
We share every part of this life together, including the great sorrows we face, arms and hearts wrapped around each other, each one of us helping the other hobble along toward redemption.
Please feel free to share the first name of someone you have loved and lost in the comments. I would just like to hold the space for them today.
Life is noisy. Everywhere. There are televisions in elevators shouting the latest news-worthy crisis. There are horns blaring from impatient people in the cars behind us. There are children throwing tantrums in grocery stores (I had the distinct pleasure of enjoying that with my grandson just this week). And then there is the constant noise inside our own heads.
There’s something about getting away from the hustle and bustle, the noisy world we live in, to a place of respite and refreshment. Maybe it’s the silence that allows our minds to breathe. Maybe it’s slowing down to hear God’s gentle whisper of love and care for us, placing our burdens only meant for His shoulders. Maybe it’s the surrounding simple beauty that soothes our hurried souls and draws us to Beauty Himself. Maybe it’s the intangible peace we receive and feel in our very bodies when we give room and space for quiet.
Constant. Noise. Drains. The. Life. Out. Of. Us. Jesus invites us to something very different. He rarely tells us to hurry up. He often spoke the opposite to his friends when He was living in this “speed-it-up” world. He knew (for them and for us) that we humans desperately need self-care and replenishment, restoration and renewal, places that GIVE LIFE.
“Come away to a quiet place and rest a while.” (Mark 6:31)
This place of withdrawal is a gift Jesus so longs to give us, not another “should” on our endless list. He wants LIFE for me and for you, for us in our collective humanity, the most full and abundant life that we are designed for. He knows what we need to be WHOLE and WELL. Rest is not selfish, lazy, or impractical. It is truly freeing and life-giving, a present straight from the tender heart of God for us to unwrap.
Where is this place of restoration for you? Is it a simple walk around the block listening to your favorite music? Is it laying down for a much-needed nap on a Sunday afternoon? Is it sitting alone in your car watching the sunset from your favorite overlook? Is it putting your phone on “do not disturb” mode for a few hours, giving yourself a break from the constant buzzing and dinging? Whatever it is, do it often and regularly. Make it a part of the rhythm of your day, your week, your month, even your year. In the hustle and bustle of ordinary life, give yourself permission to retreat, withdraw and rest.
The noisy world will be calling to you soon enough.
From my heart to yours.
P.S. I am heading horizontal this afternoon.
For other posts about my journey toward rest, check these out by clicking HERE.
“Cuddle with me so I can put my freezing cold feet on you and probably use you as a pillow and steal all the covers. K. Thanks.” (Pinterest)
On our wedding day 28 years ago, my husband’s father and our best man, implored us in his toast that the THREE MOST IMPORTANT words in our marriage to come would be these: Pirates. Penguins. Steelers.
I can’t say he was entirely wrong. Having been raised in the Steel City, my husband IS all about these black and gold teams that grace the small city of Pittsburgh. Little did I realize the sacrifice he was making on our honeymoon when his precious Penguins were in the Stanley Cup final (that’s the Super Bowl of hockey) and I was completely oblivious (and possibly admonishing) to Allen’s frantic search for a newspaper some mornings to find the score of the game the night before (this was during those olden days without internet or cell phones)! Happy to say they won their VERY FIRST CHAMPIONSHIP that year and don their team name on the trophy!
Heeding Allen’s father’s advice, I have embraced these three words (well, two of them fully and one of them only if I can get to a live game because watching baseball on TV is akin to watching golf…not heart-pumping enough for this wiggly, mile-an-hour girl). They have been a tremendous plus to our marriage, and as many of you know, I am now almost a bigger Steelers fan than he is!
Fast forward. Four houses. Four kids. Four jobs.
Unhealed, hidden selves (very hidden on the day we said “I do”) bubble to the surface and bump up against one another. As our marriage clock tick-tocks, the bumps get stronger and louder and more painful.
Words of defeat and shame are uttered (by me). “Are we going to make it?” “What is wrong with me/you/us?” “Is there any hope?”
THREE choice, sacred, life-giving, hope-gathering words are voiced (by my husband). “WE’RE STILL LEARNING.”
I am taken aback, the words bouncing around like a super ball, uncatchable.
“But,” I whisper to myself, “we’ve been at this for a long time.” Defeat and shame creep back over and over, sometimes kept hidden inside, other times shouted in anger and most often, spoken desperately alongside tears of fear.
Again and again, time after time, the three words of life and hope and healing pour from my husband’s mouth. “WE’RE STILL LEARNING.”
These simple THREE words:
- allow grace to cascade over us like a waterfall in the middle of a marriage drought
- bring mercy to the unhealed selves that keep banging into each other
- remind shame (in no uncertain terms) to “GET OUT of our house and our lives and our marriage!”
- spark forgiveness as we stop demonizing and begin humanizing each other
- usher discovery, newness and life into what seems unchanging, decrepit and even dead
- grant bravery to our fearful parts, allowing for a life-long journey of change, growth and healing
- energize our hearts to experience freedom from the past and anticipation for the future
- breathe desperately-needed and longed for HOPE to the deepest parts of these two souls and bodies, uniting them again and again in ways previously unknown
Today, on our anniversary, we headed on a hike through a windy, periodically smooth, sometimes unmarked, gloriously scenic, often rocky, difficult-to-navigate in spots, kind of scary, breath-taking trail in Allamuchy Mountain State Park. Our favorite part of all was two swans (did you know they mate for life?) with their babies!
We talked about our favorite memories of this marriage we’ve shared. Two things we noticed: most of them were hiking of some kind and lots of them were when something didn’t go quite as we planned (like the time we ended up in some woods filled with mosquitoes and we had to sprint from one end to the other, laughing and swatting as we went).
Marriage is like hiking. It’s windy. It’s periodically smooth-sailing. It’s unmarked in places. It’s gloriously scenic. It’s difficult to navigate in spots. It can be scary. It definitely takes our breath away at times. We need hope every single day. We need all that these three simple, yet profound words speak to. Today, this best gift of my husband, “WE’RE STILL LEARNING,” wash over my soul afresh, hope and life breathed anew.
Here’s to AT LEAST 28 more years!
Allen and I have been mentoring couples for about 15 years. It’s our fierce passion and privilege. I’ve written many more blog posts about marriage. You can CLICK HERE to read more!
Sarah, our first-born, and a mom herself, tackles the tough question about how our faith journey both harmed and helped her during her childhood. What happened when our faith was filled with fear and guilt and behavior-management? What changed when that all began to unravel? How did we change and what was different in how we parented? FIND OUT the wise piece of advice she gives toward the end (you have to listen all the way through) that brought healing in my own life (right on the spot). She reveals something that we ALL need to hear! CLICK ON LINK BELOW!
Please share with all the parents you know! It’s about 25 minutes! Perfect for a car ride or doing dishes or going for a walk! You really don’t want to miss it!
“In all my travels, I’ve never seen a country’s population more determined to forgive, and to build and succeed than in Rwanda.” (Pastor Rick Warren)
Dear Mr. Kagame,
I visited your country this past week. It was the first time I had ever been to Rwanda. When I was growing up and then a young mother, your country was constantly in the news, and not for good reasons. There was strife among your people groups and the politics that surrounded them and then ultimately horrific genocide in the spring of 1994. Even I, an American child growing up in war-torn Ethiopia during the 1970s, would have been terrified to visit.
That was not the case about a year ago when I was invited to go on a clean water trip to your “Land of a Thousand Hills,” something I learned this past week was more true than I imagined. I was elated at the idea and said a hearty “yes.” About three years ago, having heard the basic story of the healing journey your people have embarked on for the past 20+ years, I became intrigued with your country and felt a pull to experience it personally and in detail. Yes, I wanted to bring clean water, but more so, I longed to learn and know your people and their stories of utter heartache and unexplainable hope.
Your country that is now known for its clean streets and touristy treks to encounter mountain gorillas descended into the dark hole of savagery in 1994, only 24 short years ago. Your nation was shattered beyond recognition. Your people turned on their neighbors, their friends, their own families. They murdered innocent men, women and children, leaving behind a completely decimated economy and environment, destroying themselves from the inside out. This genocide lasted 100 days and over 1,000,000 (roughly one out of every seven) of your beautiful Rwandans lost their lives.
When it was all over, there was a crucial decision that had to be made. What do you do with a nation where 70% of your children personally witnessed the killing or injuring of a family member, 80% lost somebody in their household and 90% were afraid they were the next to die? What do you do with a country where so many were perpetrators and even more were victims? What do you do when all the light goes out and darkness appears to have definitively prevailed?
Only the most ludicrous option remained for your countrymen: the excruciating, very personal and communal passage towards repentance, grace, forgiveness, reconciliation and restoration. Under your humble and wise leadership, your brave people began their continuing journey towards hope and healing. This incredible and very rare approach to this cruel tragedy provided the essential environment where each man, woman and child who remained could experience life and love again, in all their fullness. Children could go to school. Parents could raise their crops and their families. Rwandan’s businesses could thrive. Your country could move from tragedy to triumph.
You have come a long way in just these 24 years. Your country is beautiful, the rolling hills once stained with blood, now dotted with crops and livestock. Your streets are exceptionally clean, unlike anything I’ve seen. Your people, adults and children alike, are filled with joy. Your neighborhoods are safe. Your unity and respect for each other, from the highest nobleman to the lowest pauper, abounds. Your visible equality among men and women in places of authority and leadership is highly telling of the mutual, inner esteem you have for each other. Your desire to become the first African nation where 100% of your people have access to clean water reveals the spirit of hope and excitement that I witnessed in spades. From your bustling capital of Kigali to the poorest, remote village where we dug our well, positivity and hope-filled energy permeated each person we met.
We were welcomed with bright smiles, waves and shouts of “Muzungu” (look that up on Google, you readers) as we rode past adults and children performing their daily tasks of fetching clean water, transacting business in the marketplace and taxiing their neighbors on the backs of bicycles and motorbikes. Never for a moment did I feel as if I was not wanted there. As I very sadly pondered your blood-stained streets only a few short years ago, I witnessed first-hand the miracle of this very “other-worldly” and one-of-a-kind route you and your people have taken.
Instead of revenge, you have given each other forgiveness. Instead of continuing hatred, you have learned to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Instead of war, you have an authentic peace that surpasses all human understanding. Instead of continuous destruction, there is marked restoration. I do not say this lightly. It’s palpable.
It’s as close as my eyes that saw church and political leaders working together, diligently creating plans to help the least of their countrymen. It’s as close as my ears that heard joyful singing of villagers as we watched together the water spurt out of the dry ground. It’s as close as my mouth that tasted the delicious fruits of your harvest, from bananas to coffee, sweet potatoes to cassava. It’s as close as my nose that relished the unique smells of the bustling city of Kigali to the rural countryside of the Ruhango District. It’s as close as my arms that received hugs and high-fives from soccer players and church goers, government workers and school children, the wise elders and the curious children. More completely, it’s as close as my deeply-transformed soul that I carry with me out of your beloved land.
From the bottom of my heart, I salute you and your people. You have courage beyond my comprehension. You have chosen great love in the face of extreme difficulty. Each one of you shines like a bright beacon in our dark world. Thank you. My heart has captured your dream to bring clean water to every Rwandan father, mother and child and wish to make your vision a reality: “hope for the hopeless, rest for the weary and love for a broken heart.” Godspeed, Mr. Kagame!
*If you liked this, please go onto social media and give me a thumbs up or a like. This one especially shares my heart and it would mean a lot to me.*
“Conflict creates the fire of affects and emotions; and like every fire it has two aspects: that of burning and that of giving light.” (Carl Jung)
Allen and I have our fair share of FIGHTS (the seventh F in the series). We are certainly NOT the couple who can say, “We never argue. We agree on everything.” Nor do we want to be (well, Allen wants to be secretly).
Allen is kind and gracious. I am sarcastic and I like to say, discerning (others may call me a bit judgmental). Allen is a hard-worker, quiet and reserved. I am quick-witted and loud. He is methodical and analytical. I am passionate and decisive. Allen is a supporter and a peacemaker. I am a leader and aggressive. As you can see, blending our personalities lends itself to conflict. It is inevitable.
We bicker about (super important things like) how to pack the car, load the dishwasher, and fold the laundry. I hear myself saying just last night, “I’ve told you not to fold my dresses. They just go on a hanger. You are wasting your time.” (I know, ladies. The man was folding the laundry and I still had something to say about it.)
We argue about more serious things like where to spend our money, how to handle the latest “children issue” and what to fill our calendars with, the things of life that have big implications. There’s just no way around it.
We also have more tender “discussions” about how we’ve been hurt, misunderstood, and disrespected by the other. These stem from places of abandonment and shame, and our lack of the ability to “stay with the uncomfortable” parts of ourselves. Allen has an especially hard time with this, deeply desiring the absence of conflict. It does not make him feel safe inside or out. On the other hand, I love exposing all our shadowy parts (or maybe just his if I’m truthful) and bringing them out into the open for the gaping wound to sometimes fester and other times heal. Allen tends to be the avoider. I am the chaser. I fight and he flees when we feel threatened.
For many years, we had no idea that all this conflict CAN actually lead to intimacy (being fully-known and fully-loved). But it CAN also lead to disconnection. The trick is knowing HOW to argue, how to fight fair. Allen’s calm and quiet during our times of conflict appears like marital harmony, but without resolution, the problem just brews beneath the surface. My love of “getting it out into the open” many times degenerates into insults and harm. This breeds the perfect environment for disconnection.
Dr. Gottman, the expert marriage researcher, says that how a couple handles conflict is directly related to how likely they are to have a happy marriage. There are four disastrous ways of interacting that will cripple attempts to resolve conflict, one feeding into the next (he calls them the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse): criticism, contempt, defensiveness and stonewalling. They are the FIRE that destroys.
Complaining (not to be confused with endless nagging – Allen likes the idea of challenging the status quo) is a healthy marital activity. It’s not pleasant, but it brings things into the light. Many times, and this is where I personally struggle, it crosses the line to CRITICISM. Criticism involves attacking someone’s person, rather than their behavior. Complaints usually start with the word “I” and criticism with the word “you.” For example, “I wish we spent more time together” is a complaint. “You never spend time with me” is a criticism. Criticism produces blame and multiplies shame, never resulting in closeness.
CONTEMPT brings criticism to a whole new level. Many times, criticism, as bad as it is, is born from a place of frustration. It tends to be a “crime” of passion. Contempt is a clear “premeditated” attempt to harm your partner. Its aim is to cause pain. No matter if you have been married for four days or forty years, this monster sucks away every positive feeling spouses have for one another. It appears in the form of name-calling, hostile humor (sarcasm) and straight up mockery. I always associate it with the “rolling of the eyes.” This is the most dangerous “horseman.”
Once contempt has entered the picture, each of us has a natural inclination to defend ourselves. In fact, DEFENSIVENESS can result even from proper forms of communication like complaining, especially if there is unresolved shame in either party. However, it is completely natural to resort to this place when there is CRITICISM and especially when CONTEMPT has taken hold. This being said, defensiveness only escalates a conflict instead of resolving it. Denying responsibility and making excuses only separates a couple further.
The last horseman is STONEWALLING. Allen struggles with this. Overwhelmed by emotions, his natural inclination is to withdraw, protect himself. Even though it might look on the surface like “peace-making,” it actually is a very powerful act, conveying disapproval. The example that comes to mind is when one of us “stops talking” to the other. When this happens, the ability to connect is seriously thwarted and intimacy is beyond reach.
All this sounds so horrible and hard and probably completely relatable. Even writing this is making me a little discouraged. I need a little good news, how about you?
There is great HOPE! All of those horseman come into every marriage, even happy ones at some point or another, especially when there is intense marital conflict. But they don’t have to be the norm. Just like fires can bring harm and destruction, they can also produce light and warmth.
Conflict in marriage can be the fire that produces light and warmth. It can bring life and vitality into a relationship. It is the price you pay to have deeper intimacy. WE CAN FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE! Here are basic “rules” (not a huge fan of that word) that govern how to move from harm to healing:
- DON’T RUN
Bottling things up and burying them just makes the “cork pop” at some point. The problem hasn’t gone away. Instead, take some time away if you need to with the promise that you will come back together when cooler heads prevail over heated emotions. This has been huge for us. When Allen says “Let’s come back later,” I am able to “let things go for now” knowing there will be resolution.
- CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES
This goes back to probably 85% of our arguments about how to squeeze the toothpaste tube, mow the lawn, etc. Allen and I have wasted a lot of time and energy here.
- GET TO THE HEART OF THE MATTER
Drs. Les and Leslie Parrot, marriage counselors, teach couples the X, Y, Z formula to help them state their true feelings, “In situation X, when you do Y, I feel Z.” This gives room for you to state how your partner’s behavior affects your feelings. This is when “I” statements, instead of “you” statements, come into play. This helps to diffuse defensiveness and provide a place of safety.
- NO LOW-BLOWS
Never “throw back in their face” something your spouse has shared with you in a place of vulnerability and confidentiality. In the heat of an argument, this is a quick “go-to,” but will break trust and humiliate the other. Nothing enhances feelings of shame more than this.
- IS IT THE RIGHT TIME?
This is especially helpful when working through the bigger things that may need to be sorted out over the long-haul. I have had to learn this the hard way. I want to rush through and fix things right away (like the minute it pops into my head). Allen has taught me to be patient and gracious here. Instead of my normal MO (mode of operation), I ask instead, “I have something bothering me. When is a good time to talk about it?”
- AVOID MIND-READING
Be careful to believe the best about the other’s intentions and be open to learning whether or not you are right or wrong. Mind-reading assumes the worst about someone and can be a strategy of self-protection. If I have Allen “all figured out” (and I’m not usually thinking the best), what room is there for him to share his heart? This shuts down communication and blocks intimacy.
- STAY ON TOPIC
Stick to the relevant issue that you are discussing. Don’t veer off course, bringing up everything the person has done wrong in the last five years. Refocus when things get off course. Be careful of this slippery slope.
- TWO EARS, ONE MOUTH
Listen. Plain and simple. But not that easy. Have the goal of understanding where the other person is coming from. This is so hard. I’m not sure why. We want so desperately to be understood. Give the gift you long for to the other. Hear with your heart. Be careful not to fix. Sometimes, silence is your spouse’s best friend (something super hard for this chatterbox). “I hear you” have been three of the most powerful words I’ve ever said or heard.
- ADMIT YOUR PART
I have a huge barrier when it comes to saying I am wrong. I can see so clearly how Allen is “completely in the wrong about everything” (note sarcastic tone here). This comes for me from a place of pride (“I’m better than you”). For Allen, it comes from a place of shame (“You’re better than me”). We both struggle here for different reasons, neither one of them good. Understanding the back story of our own reactions is HUGE here. When we understand that we both have infinite value and worth, “I’m sorry” becomes much easier because we can take responsibility for our actions without blame and shame.
Feeding off the compassion we now have for ourselves (and our spouses) that comes straight from God’s heart for us provides real room for forgiveness, “giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me.” We all fail. We all need forgiveness. Giving to the other what we will eventually need brings true healing. (This is a huge topic, one to be talked about at a later date.)
I keep coming back to the image of fire. “Keep the fires burning” and “Keep the flame alive” are mantras for good marriage. Fire destroys or gives light. Conflict is the same. Fighting harms or heals, brings intimacy or disconnection. I’m sure another “discussion” is right around the corner for Allen and me. May we fight the FIRES of destruction and harm with the FIRES that bring light and healing!
If you’ve made it this far, can you go back to Social Media and “like” it (but only if you do like it…LOL)!
CHECK OUT THE FIRST SIX “Fs”