Part 2 in a series of thoughts on managing the difficult relationships in life.
I, the one who has been communicating with people one way or another as long as I can remember, majored in Communications in college. When I told my parents that was where I was leaning, my dad laughed. And I’m sure some part of him died inside as he wrote tuition checks so that I could learn how to communicate more effectively. Probably not what he thought he was investing in when they packed me up in the early fall of 1994 and moved me into my dorm room.
But, I did. I majored in Communications (with a double minor in Political Science and Christianity for all those keeping track). And one of the classes I took that actually pays dividends for me still – when I remember what we talked about – is Interpersonal Communications. That is an entire semester-long class where you discuss all manner of relationships and how basic, seemingly small missteps can throw things into a total tailspin when the exchange between two people is out of balance.
Balance. That’s an important word in interpersonal relationships. And that was a significant piece of what we learned. In all situations – personal and professional – relationships naturally seek a balance. They tend to thrive on balance. I give, you take and vice versa. In the textbook and in our class discussions that all sounded great. It made sense and was a nice, neat way to look at relationships.
But, almost twenty years later (see Crap. Crap. Crap post), I can tell you that while that works in most “normal” situations, relationships with difficult people or in difficult circumstances are rarely, if ever, balanced. The relationships where any attempt to cultivate good interpersonal benefit is a lost cause, are the ones where balance is thrown out the window. As I’ve previously posted, fairness is not the aim – and often is not possible- in those situations.
I’ve also learned that the balance, or lack thereof, also throws other relationship norms out of whack. The natural give and take where you mirror what the other person does and you seek to understand their motivations and mirror those back when you interact – yeah that’s a bunch of impossible bull with difficult people. Now, I’m sure somewhere in the textbook I probably sold back to the bookstore so I could buy the t-shirt from a Phi Mu band party, most likely included a section on how to walk away from difficult people. And that is a valuable skill. Not all people are your people.
But, there are relationships that we cannot walk away from. We are tethered to one another and whatever we are trying to achieve requires the other person’s presence and participation in one way or another. These are the hard-edged relationships. How do we move ahead when the balance is out of whack, we are not getting the give and take we’d prefer, ad walking away completely is not an option? My answer – do what you should be doing in any relationship regardless of if that is being returned in your direction.
Honor God with my choices – even when I’m not being honored by others.
If I’m honest, there is an eight-year old girl trapped inside of me who is keeping score of how frequently she makes the right choice and other people don’t. And it drives her (uh, me) crazy. Why do I have to make the right choices just to have others not return the favor as it relates to me?
In her (amazing) book, Unglued, Lysa TerKeurst points out that on a daily basis we are called to sow the seeds of righteousness in our lives. That’s making the right choices that honor God every day. Every day. We’re reminded of this in Hosea chapter 10.
“Sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the LORD, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you.”
Hosea 10:12
Yeah, Hosea doesn’t mention the complicated people in our lives as an excuse. There is no “if yes, sow righteousness; if no, give them a piece of your mind.” Dang it, Hosea. Have you met some of these people?!? Unfortunately for the little girl keeping score in my mind, there is no out here. “Sow righteousness” when you feel like the one being dumped on, the one with a target on your back, the one being taken advantage of.
But, I love how quickly Hosea promises something that makes that sowing totally worth it. “Reap the fruit of unfailing love…” That’s God’s unfailing love. And I’m all for the love of God, but what strikes me here is the reminder that it is “unfailing.” No matter how under attack we may feel, no matter how unreasonable other people may seem, God isn’t taking his love away. And that unplowed ground…yeah, that’s the eight-year old in me keeping score. God promises to tenderly work that unplowed, hardened ground and ultimately He will shower righteousness on me. He promises to honor my good choices – my sowing of righteousness – by showering me with His unfailing love.
In those interactions where I am tempted to jump to where I was wronged or to defend someone who is being unfairly questioned, my first instinct must be to ask myself, “Is this choice – to speak, to defend, to act – honoring God?” The answer will be clear so the right answer isn’t the challenge here. For me, the challenge is to slow down long enough to ask myself the question. I need to slow down enough to take (at least) a breath before I make the choice.
The habit of taking a breath before speaking or acting – or maybe a series of breaths – and letting issues “cool” for a bit before I decide on an action is something I’m cultivating with God’s help. Taking a breath gives me space to ask that question, “Is this honoring God?”
The discipline to breath is transforming. And that sounds insane because breathing is something we do without intention or even knowing we are doing it. Breathing is not only life-giving, it is required. But, I’m learning that pausing – for a split second or for an hour, a day, or a month – gives me the chance to take a deep, deep breath and reframe my heart and mind before I act or speak. When I stop to intentionally take a deep breath, it is like the pause button is hit for me and the urgency to respond fades. The temptation to hit reply on that email, to lash out at the person in front of me, or to internally tell myself the entire history of that flawed relationship begins to fade as I breathe. And I have the time to consider my best next action, word, or thought to honor God.
Breathing, at least for me in difficult situations, isn’t just life-giving. It is cleansing, life-changing, and my cue to hold myself to God’s standard. The promise of His unfailing love and the shower of His righteousness is plenty motivation to pause.
Deep breath in…
