Tag: conflict (Page 3 of 4)

Can This Marriage Be Saved?

First of all, a huge “Thank you!” to all of you who took the time to fill out the survey this week!  I really appreciate it and look forward to learning more about you and how I can improve.  Today’s title implies that the post is just about marriage, but I think every living being deals with this issue…

On July 30th, husband John and I will be celebrating our 31st anniversary.  That’s a long time.  Longer than the Internet or Chicken McNuggets have been around.  A lot longer than Kim Kardashian’s three marriages put together.  A. Long. Time.photo-127

He puts up with me waking him in the middle of the night to talk about “things”, and I try to take his unusual compliments in the spirit they are given. Like when he says I look autumnal, or compares me to yogurt, or says being with me is as good as being alone.  What can I say?  Our marriage works.

However, like in any healthy relationship between two beloved riff-raffs, we still have issues.  Well, one issue.  One very specific issue. Continue reading

The Simpsons, the Cleavers, the Holidays, and the Bible

John likes to say he grew up in the Simpson family and I grew up in the Cleaver family.  For those of you born before this century that’s the Leave-it-to-Beaver-all-american-solve-the-oh-so-dramatic-problem-of-someone-telling-a-white-lie-in-30-minutes-and-live-happily-ever-after-TV-family-of-the-1960’s.DSC00619

I share that only because we’re coming up on Thanksgiving and Christmas and every holiday that involves families gathering together.

Some of us have dreams that look like this:

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But reality can often look like this:

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And as wonderful as my family is, and as much as I’d like to think they’re perfect, I’m resigned to face the truth that there is no such thing as a fully functional family.  We live in a broken world and we’re a broken people – dysfunctional in some way, every one of us.

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When a “Good” Fight Goes “Bad”

The other day I wrote about “good” fights.  The times when somehow, against all odds, and all our emotion, and in spite of our bent towards holding grudges, with God’s help, we address conflict and come out on the other side…Maybe more whole.  More compassionate.  With a better understanding of grace.  With a little clearer picture of redemption.

I outlined some steps that have been helpful to me, but…”1,2,3 steps” are always dangerous.  I really wish we lived in a “1,2,3 voila!” world, but we don’t.

What about when a “good fight” goes bad?  

Many years ago when I was first learning about what Jesus would ask of me regarding conflict I had a situation with a neighbor friend involving our kids.  I really, truly felt I had gone through each of the steps to handle our disagreement in a healthy way.

I prayed like crazy!  I examined my heart and thought I owned my part!  I was calm for Pete’s sake!!    I was warmly assertive and humble, darn it!

We sat at my kitchen table and you know how she responded? Continue reading

Good Fights

I think I had a pretty good fight recently.  Not great, but it was progress.  Let me backtrack.

Someone did something that made me, well… furious!

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I grew up in a home where there was very little conflict, and when there was, we ignored it.

You know, like a kid who thinks if he closes his eyes no one will see him.  So conflict’s not really been my thing.  It’s had to be a growing edge for me as an adult.

And I’ve done it wrong. A. Lot.

When someone said something thoughtless, or did something mean, or (gasp!) was controlling or dismissive or disagreed with me…

I’ve done the angry email thing and the passive-aggressive thing, and the withdraw and punish thing…

See, I told you I was bad at this!

But the other day, once I settled down, I experienced a tiny (and I mean tiny) victory.  Continue reading

One of the Hardest Verses in the Bible and Why it’s Important

John said, “I think you need to do a Matthew 18:15.”

No, no, NO!  Anything but that!  Not that Uncomfortable Thing.  Not that Truth-Telling thing.  Not admitting that someone has the power to actually ding me.

“If a fellow believer hurts you, go and tell him—work it out between the two of you. If he listens, you’ve made a friend. If he won’t listen, take one or two others along so that the presence of witnesses will keep things honest, and try again.” Mt. 18:15, 16 MSG

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Those are some of the sentences I’d like to cut out of my Bible.

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Two Words Preventing Peace

The other day I was wrestling (and by that I mean full body Hulk Hogan throw-down wrestling) with the tangled Christmas lights outside by the prickly pokey evergreens in front of our house.  My hands numb, my nose drippy.

And under my frosty breath I muttered “He never helps with this.  If any decorating is going to get done it has to be me.  Always me doing all the work to make us Christmas-ready.”

I know.  My problems are so real!

Continue reading

Squirrels and World Peace

This was a text exchange between daughters Katy and Maggie last week:

Ahhh…So many questions!

It was a timely reminder our family’s issues with squirrels and how God may want to use this to prepare me for an upcoming trip to the Middle East with a group of women pursuing peace.  Here’s an edited version of some thoughts I posted last year…

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How to have a Hard Conversation

Tomorrow I am meeting with a friend for coffee.  I’ve been praying like crazy because I love this person and it’s because I love them that I’m anxious about our conversation.

I have some concerns.  I’ve noticed some things that I feel like God may want me to caution this person about.  But I have nothing to gain personally, and everything to lose relationally.  And…I may be wrong.

Like many of you I’m pretty much a people-pleaser.  I avoid saying hard things almost as much as I avoided hopping on the Yoga band-wagon.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about the Jesus way of hard conversations.  As I’ve prayed and looked for examples in Scripture, here are a few questions I’ve asked myself:

1.  Do I have enough of a relationship with this person to have this kind of conversation?  Have I built trust?  Do they know more than anything else that I love them and am for them?

2.  Are they open to letting me speak into their life in this way?  Am I assuming a role that I shouldn’t? Or is this a Nathan situation (2 Samuel 12:1)?

3.  Am I going into this conversation prayed up and having examined my heart for messy motives?  Is my desire to speak rooted in pride or control?

4.  If this really is a case of iron sharpening iron, am I open to the roles being reversed?  Am I receptive to hearing something from this friend that might be hard for me to hear?

5.  Am I going in with a humble spirit, asking questions more than making pronouncements, willing to listen and admit I may not be seeing things clearly?

6.  People hear criticism like you’re using a bull horn and affirmation like you’re whispering it in the middle of a violent wind storm.  Have I figured out how to integrate grace and affirmation throughout our conversation?  And if there was just one concern I’d want to make sure this person heard, what would it be?

The title of this post was misleading.  There’s no magic formula and if there is, I don’t know it.  I’m just a learner who is stuttering her way through – all Colin Firth in “The King’s Speech”.  Anyone can make a list of questions.  But a real conversation??  “Come Holy Spirit” is about all I know to say for sure.

What am I missing?  What would you add?

Drawing lines…and crossing them

When I was growing up we took a cross-country family vacation every year.  Mom and Dad in the front seat with Mom in charge of snacks and Dad in charge of car games.  Like Alphabet and Twenty Questions.

In the back seat were me and my two brothers, Cris and David and we were in charge of…Well, let’s just say we were in charge of surviving the road trip without killing each other.  We were kids, so to that end we would draw imaginary lines across which the sibling sitting next to us couldn’t cross.  With a toe or an elbow or a pinky.  We each had our own 3’x3′ “kingdom”.  Only kids would do that, right?

Not so much.

We’re still traveling in the Middle East and a theme seems to be line drawing.

Thursday night, John and I had Turkish coffee with a Muslim refugee family who have been living since 1948 in the U.N. refugee camp next to our hotel.  Their home looks much like a simple apartment except for the fact that they still have the key to the home they had to flee.  After coffee the father walked us through the darkened streets, showing us the different places where friends and family had been killed, one shot by a sniper shooting from the roof of the hotel where we were staying just a block away.  A line has been drawn between refugees and Israeli settlers.

Saturday night we celebrated a Shabbat service with a Jewish community to welcome in the Sabbath.  The women had to sit separate from the men, a line and a partition down the middle of the worship space.  On the other side the men recited prayers and danced and sang while we women felt a bit like marginalized on-lookers.  A line between men and women.

Yesterday morning we visited the Old City of Jerusalem, again divided by lines – the Muslim Quarter, the Jewish Quarter, the Armenian Quarter, the Christian Quarter.

And within the old city there’s the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, commemorating where Jesus  was crucified.  It too is divided and certain religions can only worship at certain times.  There were so many crowds of people, shoulder to shoulder, shuffling along, jostling for a place to get close to a “holy site”.  And I kept thinking of Isaiah 53:6 – “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us to his own way…”

But then after all these lines, there was Nadia, who we met after driving to the border of Jordan.  A border with six distinct lines, each with a different requirement we had to fulfill before we could move to the next one.  I half expected them to say “Now do the Hokey Pokey and turn yourself around, cuz that’s what it’s all about!!”, but these guys definitely weren’t playing games when a guard raised his gun to John who tried to walk where he shouldn’t.

Nadia is a Muslim Israeli from Nazareth who spends one whole day every week traveling and crossing the border so she can attend school the following day in Jordan, working towards her doctorate.  She crossed every line – religious, cultural, language, and nationality to reach out to us and gently guide us through each step of the crossing, including paying for the cab we were required to take the last 100 yards.

Nadia got me to thinking about the lines we drew as kids and those we draw as adults.  Or just miss seeing.  Invisible lines I may be neglecting to cross, even out of apathy.

Am I actively watching with Jesus, for the foreigner, or the outcast so that I can cross lines like He did instead of drawing them?  What about you?

The one John wanted me to title “The Love Banker”

Friday morning John and I had a fight. A big fight. Well, not exactly a fight.

In case you didn’t know, John’s very competitive. (I am too. I’m the one telling the story so I don’t have to mention that, but I’m trying to be fair).

We were on the golf course and I thought John acted like a jerk and hurt my feelings and I got teary and after arguing about it we didn’t speak.

Towards the end of our round he said, “Do you have any ideas about how to get on the solution side of this?”

I said “No.” and that was that.

Ok, maybe it wasn’t my finest hour.

We went our separate ways and I talked to two of my best friends, both of whom said they didn’t know what the issue was, but they were on my side.

Totally. They were sure I was completely right and justified in my feelings and John deserved the worst punishment imaginable.

They are good friends.

I told them we were supposed to speak to engaged couples about how to have a happy marriage at a marriage mentor dinner at 6:00. Ugh.

My one friend said “You guys have the best marriage of anyone I know so I’m sure you’ll get it figured out by 6:00.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to get it figured out. What I really wanted to do was tell John he was on his own and he could go talk about marriage without me. (Again, not my finest hour)

John and I both ended up at home for lunch. I was silent. (my family’s way of dealing with conflict). He tried again. He apologized.

I said it was fine, but I still didn’t like him very much.

Later in the afternoon I was laying down on the couch in our living room staring at the ceiling and I started thinking about John, and our marriage, and a gift he got last Christmas.

 

I thought of this bank that Katy and Maggie gave him. You push a coin through the slot in the top and there’s a digital counter that adds up the amount in the jar. John and the girls spent a chunk of Christmas day putting in coins and seeing the amount grow. Now it sits on a stand at our back door where John can add his change when he comes in. It’s about 3/4 full and registers $83.50

We’ve been married 34 years and John’s done a LOT to make deposits in our relationship.

I thought of all the ways he honors me, affirming me both publicly and privately. And more than that how he honors me by what he doesn’t say.

Example: He has never said “Gee, do you really think you should eat that ginormous 983 calorie dessert with 52 grams of fat?” (for which I’m eternally grateful)

Then I thought of how he serves me in so many little ways, like covering me with a blanket when we’re watching TV., or calling every day when he’s on his way home from work to see if I need anything at the store.

Over the years John has been a jerk once or twice. And I’ve been a jerk more often than that. Each time we’ve made withdrawals from our relational bank.

I’m thankful for the deposits we’ve made and the reserve that’s there. It all adds up…makes sense, and that’s the truth and it’s ok, but what about when it doesn’t?

In many relationships the withdrawals are greater than the deposits and God calls it grace.

Grace doesn’t add up. Doesn’t make sense. Grace doesn’t keep track of wrongs…or withdrawals.

God doesn’t keep track when John is thoughtless or I am selfish. His mercies are new every morning and the bank is always full.  There’s the math that counts and the math that doesn’t and in marriage, although the deposits that build trust are important, we’re dependent on the math that doesn’t count.

For that I am profoundly grateful.

So today, what mercies are you thanking God for?  How are you making deposits of loving service in the lives of those around you?

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