Showing posts with label yelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yelling. Show all posts

Friday, August 13, 2010

Uncle!

Found this out in bloggy land this morning. It cuts to the quick y'all, I reached in to touch it and pulled back a bloody stump. Ugh, I'm so guilty of this. Ask any of my children, especially my oldest. *sigh*

It’s not so much what you say
As the manner in which you say it;
It’s not so much the language you use
As the tone in which you convey it;

“Come here!” I sharply said,
And the child cowered and wept.
“Come here,” I said-
He looked and smiled
And straight to my lap he crept.

Words may be mild and fair
And the tone may pierce like a dart;
Words may be soft as the summer air
But the tone may break my heart;

For words come from the mind
Grow by study and art-
But tone leaps from the inner self
Revealing the state of the heart.

Whether you know it or not,
Whether you are mean or care,
Gentleness, kindness, love and hate,
Envy, anger, are there.

Then, would you quarrels avoid
And peace and love rejoice?
Keep anger not only out of your words-

Keep it out of your voice.

Author Unknown

See what I mean? I know, right? Just had me screaming uncle, like Ralphie in A Christmas Story.

I used to work in AWANA with a woman who said that her mother (get this!) never once raised her voice. Never once yelled at her, but always used a calm steady voice. As you might imagine, we stared at her like she had lobsters crawling out of her ears. Not because of who her mother happened to be, but because of the super huge feat that is. We had to admit it made perfect sense, because these two daughters of That Woman were the gentlest creatures we knew. As were their children.

But come on. Never once raised her voice? Like... never?

Sooooo, when you flushed an entire roll of toilet paper... no yelling? When you took a Sharpie marker to the walls... no shouting? When you stabbed Mother's size 10 knitting needle into the couch cushion 947 times because that ka-thunk ka-thunk sound amused you... no wailing, no weeping, no gnashing of teeth? Nothing?

Yeah. We weren't buying it.

The woman's sister walked in, and after a few moments of memory-searching, it was confirmed that their mother never once yelled at them. I only have three words to say to that: a-maz-ing.

Now I know that nobody is perfect. No, not one. Romans 3:23 For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. No child is perfect and none of us mothers has it all figured out. There is no such thing as the perfect mother. Even if you think your mother had it wired? I will bet you a million iced grande hazelnut lattes (Starbucks please, make it a triple) that she didn't think she had it wired. We, all of us, have things we want to improve upon. Aspects of our personality or character that we would gladly hack out with an axe if we could.

Proverbs 15:1 - A kind answer turns away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger.

It's a science, baby. A recipe. Do this, you get that. This? Then that. This that this that. Scream at your children, they don't listen to what you say, but they do feel your attitude. Your words are meaningless. All they take away is how you're feeling about them. (I know... knife, meet heart... me too.)

I'm not saying don't discipline your children. Anyone who knows me, knows that I would never say that. The Bible says in Proverbs 13:24 that the parent who doesn't discipline her child hates that child. Think about it. It's true. And it also says to do it right then and there, and don't pay any mind to all their whining and boo-hoo'ing. Of course they don't like discipline. It's no fun. But it needs to be done. Proverbs 19:18 (I love the King James here) - Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying.

There's the art. You have to discipline, but you also have to find a way to do it without breaking their hearts. I don't want my children to be walking down memory lane one day and have to say how much I raised my voice. I want my home to be an escape from the meanness outside these walls. I don't want to pass on that legacy of yelling, that they no doubt will hand down to their own children. (Please God, no!) I want my love and discipline to reflect God's ways. To draw my family towards Christ!

What. a HUGE. undertaking. But! By God's grace, it is possible.

Philippians 4:13 - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Do you hear that, fellow mother-in-the-trenches? All things. ALL. According to this verse, it IS possible. (No, really!) And did you hear that other part? It's Christ who strengthens us. We don't have the power to do it on our own.

He's our Daily Bread. He gives us what we need for each day, each hour, each circumstance, right when we need it. If God can provide food and water to the entire nation of Israel during a 40-year journey in the middle of nowhere, reluctant though they were to be there, whining every step of the way... He is big enough to provide you and me with the patience we need to stop, take a deep breath, and not destroy the child who just poured a whole box of Cheerios into the dog food bag.

Discipline? Yes. Grumpy Spice, fire-breathing, mouth-like-a-sailor (no offense, sailors!) pattern of harshness that they'll never forget, and probably inflict on their own children? No. By God's grace, no.

OK. Now you know as much as I know. If you were hoping to get to the end and find that Magic Bullet answer? Super sorry about that. I don't have it. As I said before, you may recall, I struggle with this. I don't always fail, and with prayer and much deep breathing, it's so much better now than it used to be. But I still fail more than I want to.

Tell you what. Let me know you need it, and I'll pray for you. You pray for me too, okay?

Monday, April 21, 2008

So, like, NO grumbling? Like, none? Really?

I love the laundry. I really really do. I'm not kidding, either. I love the laundry.

Well, wait. Let me clarify that.

I love to sort the laundry. I'm using the word love about sorting laundry, yes. But you know what I mean: sheets go with sheets, towels go with towels, lights, whites and darks, and so on. Sheets and pillow cases meet up and whisper all their bedroom secrets to the blankets. Not many people know that light colors are happiest when allowed to hang together and cheer each other up. They have that rose-colored glasses positivity about them that you just can't help be brightened by yourself. And darks? Dark clothes just want to be left alone to sit and brood in one big lumpy mish-mash, doing their best to look tortured, mysterious and aloof. Oh so very dark smoky French cafe.

I love to do the laundry, too. Mainly because I'm the only one in my house who does it right. Truly though, washing my perfectly sorted loads, hanging what needs to be hung and drying what goes in the dryer? It just speaks to my organization-loving heart. Dude, clothes don't want to be washed with towels. Towels leave all their working class terry-clothy lint all over the privileged fine knits that populate the upper crust of Laundry Room Society. And what fool decided it was okay to just undress into the washer and run it when it's full? Hellooooo?!! There are whites in there with dark jeans, man. Whites with jeans! Sweet fancy Moses, that's just crazy talk!

I also really dig on folding the laundry. Again, I'm the only one who does it right. And yes! There really IS a right way and a wrong way, don't argue with me. Who else knows how every little thing in this house needs to be folded besides the one who knows how it all needs to fit in drawers and cubbies? Moi, that's who. Jonah's shirts hang, Mary-Beth's dresses hang, towels and trousers folded in thirds, shirts folded department store style, knickers lay flat or fold, depending on size. *ahem* So yeah. I love to fold the laundry.

But today I was grumbling about laundry. Not laundry, really, but having to turn yet another of Ashley's flap-jacking shirts right-side-out. Seriously, people. There's no Right-Side-Out Fairy who comes along, waves her magic clothespin over the basket and the clothes just magically turn themselves to rights. No, the momma does that. And do you know why the momma does that? Because you don't!

So anyway, I'm grumbling to myself: "If I have to turn one more of these shirts back to rights I think I might just finally go to the zoo!" when suddenly, God decides I'm in need of a little calibration.

"Do everything without grumbling..." Philippians 2:14

W-what? Pardon? First of all, where did that even come from? I haven't read that verse in ages. On purpose. Grumbling seems to be getting me through my day just fine, thank you very much. Sure, there's plenty of weeping and gnashing of teeth around here when I put my foot down, but the children do it too!

"Do everything without grumbling..."

So, does that mean NO grumbling? Like, none? Really? Even if it's the billionth shirt I've turned right-side-out? Even if it's the 5,143,786th time I've had to ask a certain someone I'm married to where he put my favorite stockpot... AGAIN!? Because it's sure not where it belongs!

Even after the 43rd change of panties in one day? How about after I turn off the 90th light in a room with no! people! in it!? Huh? Huh?! Do You even know how frustrating that is? Certainly cause for grumbling if ever there was one.

No grumbling, huh? WHY???!!! I don't think You know these people I live with, Lord.

Oh. So you say Jesus didn't grumble when He went to the cross for me? Yeah. I remember that now.

(Thinking on it for a while...)

Okay, God. "Do everything without grumbling." I'll do my best. You're right. It probably would help my all-around attitude tremendously. If I'm purposely not grumbling, but deciding to thank You for these people I live with instead of grumbling about them? Yeah. It'd probably make a huge difference. I'll give it a try.

I'll, um, let you guys know how it goes.
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