I was on the Chaplain on-call at large hospital in Boston. I had just fallen asleep for the 3rd time when my beeper when off again. When I woke up, I realized that I was still on-call, I jumped up and called the number. I spoke with a nurse who told me a 9 year-old was on the way to emergency surgery and his mother was hysterical could I come and speak with her.
For the the past 18 hours I had been responding to patient requests for a Chaplain. As I was walking to my destination, I felt a blister forming on foot from my Dansko shoes.
I pushed the heavy door to open and the parents were coming to blows.
The battle began over what time the father was going to arrive at the hospital because he had been away on business. He hadn’t called his wife, so when he arrived she jumped all over him.
I could feel the perspiration under my arms and my heart was racing. My seminary training in Hermeneutics, Church History, Greek, Liberation theology, Old and New Testament at Harvard hadn’t prepared me for this. As a Chaplain Intern I didn’t have the right tools to help this couple. I didn’t know how to help them build a loving and supportive relationship. Since I hadn’t a clue what to do for them I just listened. After they each told me their side of the story, they looked at me as though I could solve their problem with a few magical words.
I said to her, “He understands how afraid you get. He was trying to get to the hospital as quickly as he could so he didn’t think to call you. When you get on his case he feels trapped, like you don’t trust him and trying to control him. Sounds to me as if he cares for you.”
I said to him, “Your wife is saying when you didn’t call it made her feel alone and unimportant. The later it got the more worried she became. She panicked and thought perhaps you were hurt . . . lying in a ditch somewhere. She cares about you.”
Somehow it worked.
In my struggle to apply love that morning, I could hear the undertones of what they were saying. They couldn’t hear each other. They failed to hear the hurt and caring under their anger. They seemed blocked by anger, habit and even more, their need to win the argument.
As the couple realized that they were both hurt, they grew in concern for each another. They rediscovered how much they loved and cared for one another. Their need to win subsided.
The experience gave me a clue how powerful good communication can be as a relationship tool. It’s the oil that lubricates the engine of a relationship. Without it the engine seizes and grinds to a halt.
Now years later, couples still excite me–when an angry couple begins to hear the hurt and caring under their partner’s words. Sometimes they end up in tears when they move beneath the complaints and criticism to rediscover, to their surprise, that their partners not only care for them-they still love them.
Good communication is more difficult than we want to believe. Effective negotiation is even harder. A couple’s vision emerges from a process of reflection and inquiry. It requires both people to speak from the heart about what really matters to each. As adults, we are all responsible for how we express ourselves, no matter how others treat us.
Effective communication means paying attention to:
- Managing unruly emotions, such as intense anger.
- How you are communicating – whining, blaming, vague, defensive, negative, cold silence, etc.
- What you want from your partner during the discussion. This implies that you know yourself.
- What the problem symbolizes to you.
- The outcome you want from the discussion.
- Your partner’s major concerns.
- How you can help your partner become more responsive to you.
- The beliefs and attitudes you have about the problem.
No wonder good communication is so hard. Grace under pressure does not spring fully-grown even with the best of intentions – practice, practice and more practice. Practice and you’ll get there.
CHALLENGE:What do you say when others react negatively?