“No I don’t want to!” the protests could be heard from our front lawn. “What now?” I sighed under my breath, dropping my head as I proceeded through the front door. We’d arrived home only 5 minutes prior and my eldest had already been sent to his room. Mimicking. Again! When will he learn?
“That didn’t take long, did it?” I remarked with a defeated look on my face. Immediately I received a dose, of what closely resembled, word vomit. My husband was stood before me, looking just as defeated as I felt, listing all the reasons why he had dished out the consequence, why his actions were justified and why our eldest deserved to be in his room. I looked at him bewildered. Why was he speaking to me like this?
He felt attacked. He thought I was criticizing him for having dished out a punishment so soon after we had arrived home. He explained all the things that “I had said”, how he’s always the bad guy, how he’s always wrong and how I’d said to him “That didn’t take you long, did it?”
The truth was, I was disappointed that our eldest had broken the rules already. Unbeknown to my husband, I had spoken to him prior to leaving the car and explained what I wanted him to do once we got inside. I was frustrated that he didn’t immediately go to his room and clean it up, as I had asked.
The issue here wasn’t what I said or even how I said it. The issue was how it was heard and received. Maybe it was all the times during the week that I had criticised him for leaving a mess? Maybe it was that time I dodged his hug because I was frustrated or busy? Maybe it was all the times previously that I been frustrated because he had gotten angry at the kids soon after arriving home from work? Maybe it was all of the above? Regardless of the occasion, it had become apparent that my husband was hearing me through a filter or two; causing him to misread and misinterpret what I had said.
As we go about our lives we unknowingly collect filters. I failed – “I’m a failure”. They didn’t answer my text – “I’m annoying”. They didn’t say hello – “No one cares about me”. They didn’t invite me – “No one likes me”. I arrived late – “I’m always late”. I didn’t do well on that test – “I’m stupid”. These filters effect how we hear and see the world around us. When left unchecked they build up, one on top of the other, on top of the other. The more we apply, the more obscured the view becomes, making it difficult to recognise what is real and what’s a filter. Then, before you know it, “that didn’t take long, did it?” becomes “that didn’t take you long, did it? You’re so useless and you always stuff up.”
Often when I find myself feeling offended, unseen or hurt God prompts me to take some time and check in with the filters I may have picked up along the way. Did that person purposely ignore me or did they genuinely not hear me? Did that person not want to talk to me or were they genuinely in a rush to get somewhere? Is that person really awful or have I not taken the time to get to know them myself? Are they really saying that I'm incompetent or is that something I've been telling myself? Am I really failing as a parent and spouse or am I comparing myself to unrealistic expectations?
What do you say or believe about yourself that causes you to misread what others are saying or doing? Do you have some filters that need removing? Perhaps it's worth taking a moment to check in with yourself from time to time and ask the tough questions? After all, life is far more beautiful without the messy filters.
Comments