A recent failure on my part reminded me to monitor my initial reactions to an unpleasant experience. Thankfully, my insensitivity didn’t bother my husband Tom as much as I feared it had, but I’m always striving to improve.
My husband wasn’t feeling well, so he opted out of a family gathering. I had a relaxing day with my two daughters, a son-in-law, my four grandchildren, and my step dad. Our fun interactions were mixed with emotionally touching moments. I drove home in a quiet car mentally singing, “Life without God’s love is like a doughnut…there’s a hole in the middle of your heart.”* I prayed that everyone could be filled with God’s love.
When I got home and walked into the house, Tom was on the couch and he had music blaring loudly. It was a startling contrast to my mood. I said, “Hi” and we smiled at each other, and then at a volume to match the music, I yelled, “Do you think it’s loud enough?” He turned it off and I asked how he was feeling and said I wanted to hear about his day as soon as I unloaded the car. (That part was okay.) Then I sat next to him and, feeling badly about my comment on the volume of the music, said he could turn it back on, just not so loud. He left it off and we discussed how the day had gone for each of us. (He had a relaxing day.) So far, we were doing fine. After I showed him the pictures, I got absorbed into editing them. He then headed off to bed and I feared he was feeling ignored. It turned out he was mostly just tired.
The next morning, I confessed my insensitivity and apologized and asked how it had made him feel. Then I explained how the contrast in mood had startled me and that loud music actually hurts my ears.
So, if I were to do that scene over, it would look something like this: I’d enter and say, “Hi! How are you feeling?” (Listen to his answer.) Then I’d say, “I want to unload the car, then I’d like to hear about your day.” After unloading the car, I would sit by his side, and if he hadn’t already turned the music down, say, “Would you mind turning the music off while we talk?” Then we’d share about our days and I’d do the photo editing when I was alone. The next day, at an appropriate time, I’d share my feelings about the music.
I’m blessed to be married to a man who cares about my feelings, so we’re both working on being more sensitive and honest with each other.
*The partial quote is from a Rob Evans “Donut Man” song. The whole line says, “Life without God’s love is like a doughnut, like a doughnut, like a doughnut. Life without God’s love is like a doughnut, ‘cuz there’s a hole in the middle of your heart.”