Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Uncategorized

The sigh moment

Raising two kids wouldn’t be so hard if one of them wasn’t a toddler who was constantly demanding her own way. Her first-born nature and mine seem always to be wrestling for control. She loves to help with dishes, and some days, I feel like we’re elbowing each other for a better position at the sink — her goal, to play in the water and mine, to actually clean some dishes! She’s also in the bossy stage. I feel like her pet sometimes. “Sit.” “C’mere.” Will I soon be asked to “roll over” or “shake”?

No matter how crazy the day has been, though, there’s this moment at the end of the day that makes it all worthwhile. It starts with kisses and hugs at bedtime, followed by an “I wuv you” as one of us puts her in her crib. As soon as the door to the bedroom closes, my husband and I look at each other and almost audibly let our breath out. He calls it “the sigh moment.” The work part of the day is over and it’s time to relax. Even if our son is still awake, it’s still a more calm time in our household.
Thinking about the sigh moment helps me get through those everyone’s-tired-and-cranky-and-there’s-too-much-to-do days. That’s my reward.
So, too, in the Christian life. Walking with the Lord, working for Him, serving in His name can be exhausting and seemingly unrewarding, at times. But we have confidence that when our time is done, we’ll have a sigh moment with Him. Not just a “well done, good and faithful servant,” although coming from God Himself, that would be enough, but eternity to live with Him.
“Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:3-4

Tone deaf

I started re-reading C.S. Lewis’ “The Screwtape Letters” this week because I need a reminder of the subtle ways we, Christians, can tear each other apart, almost without knowing it.

I’ve been thinking heavily about this passage lately:
In civilised life domestic hatred usually expresses itself by saying things which would appear quite harmless on paper (the words are not offensive) but in such a voice, or at such a moment, that they are not far short of a blow in the face. To keep this game up you … must see to it that each … has a sort of double standard. Your patient must demand that all his own utterances are to be taken at their face value and judged simply on the actual words, while at the same time judging all his mother’s utterances with the fullest and most oversensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention.
Sometimes I forget how easily a tone can change a conversation, and I wonder if the way I say something often makes it difficult for the other person to actually hear what I’m saying. And vice versa.
One afternoon this week, I walked into the house with an armload of groceries. Everyone else in the house was napping. Until I walked in. The first words out of my husband’s mouth were “I need to teach you how to enter a house.” His tone wasn’t cruel, but I sensed some annoyance, because the door slammed behind me and everyone woke up. My reaction was less than cordial and for a few minutes, until I realized how childish I was being, I sulked around the house and began compiling my mental list of grievances against my husband. All because of how I interpreted his tone. All he was really saying was that I could have entered the house more quietly, and he was willing to demonstrate. I blew it out of proportion.
Maybe this is why Scripture tells us: Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. (Colossians 4:6)
And: A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. (Proverbs 15:1)
I’m hoping to be a better listener, tuning out a person’s tone to get to the heart of what they’re saying. I’m not sure it’s easy, but I’m willing to try.