I came across this poem from my new writing friend, Richard Exley. It has a simple message that we need to remember.
“I saw them tearing a building down,
a group of men in a busy town.
With a hefty blow and a lusty yell,
They swung with zest,
and a sidewall fell.
I asked the foreman,
“Are these men skilled?
The kind you would hire,
if you had to build?”
He looked at me, and laughed, “No, indeed!
Unskilled labor is all I need.
Why, these men can wreck in a day or two,
What has taken builders years to do.”
I asked myself, as I went my way,
which of these roles have I tried to play?
Am I a builder with plumb and square,
measuring and constructing with skill and care?
Or am I the wrecker, who ruins the town,
content with the business of tearing down?”
(author, Anonymous)
Hurricane Katrina knocked five pine trees on my house, and a few weeks later a crew of unskilled folks gutted my house. Didn’t take them long, and they seemed to enjoy themselves as they came through swinging 3 lb. mini-sledge hammers.
It’s odd, isn’t it? There’s a strange pleasure in destroying and tearing things down. It’s why it is easy to play the wrecker, too, with the hearts of other people. It was a skill we honed in junior high, of course, and then used carefully and judiciously in high school. Where do we use it the most today?
In our marriages and in our parenting.
Sadly, I have saved my harshest words for my wife and children. Before I started my own journey into emotional healing and relational maturity, my shame used to work —under stress at times— to make sure that I never ruined my reputation or sullied my shimmering public image by speaking harshly to anyone for failing me, disappointing me, or not meeting my own (selfish) expectations. But not with my loved ones.
I have made some progress, I know, but if I ever do speak harshly, critically or complain against another human being, tearing them down and closing their heart, I do it to those closest to me. It is easy to do when we have made a habit of doing it for years, perhaps even decades. If you have conflict in your closest relationship(s), I encourage you with this thought: If you pause and wait, the Holy Spirit will emerge to control you, and the atmosphere between, say, you and your wife can remain pleasant. You can give grace, instead of harsh for harsh.
When you feel the impulse to speak back strongly, harshly, sarcastically, or with contempt. . . . slow down. Hold your tongue. Acknowledge the Holy Spirit, and give Him the right of way, to take control of you at the moment . . . and then submit yourself to His gentle and gracious spirit. Then speak kindly.
Maintain your own sense of dignity as a beloved child of God, and do not let the other person’s words or attitude “tell you who you are!” Let’s God’s voice tell you who you are, and in that identity choose who you want to be. While my spouse might be in a bad mood, or upset or angry, I don’t have to be. I can choose my own disposition. And I can choose to be in Christ with my attitude and my words.
Slow down. Pause. Don’t be quick to speak. Yield to the Holy Spirit. Reveal the life of Christ living in you, and through you, as you.
“But let everyone be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger;
for the anger of man does not achieve the righteousness of God . . .
If anyone thinks himself to be [spiritual],
and yet does not bridle his tongue
but ‘betrays’ his true heart,
this person’s religion is worthless.”
(James 1:19, 20, 26)
-Carter