Confronting with Grace

Do you ever feel like every time you confront something that needs to be addressed you are simply raising your head to be shot at?

Lately, I've had many opportunities to enter into discussions where a behavior or a comment or an approach to a situation needs corrected/addressed. I really try to not get involved where I shouldn't. But this appears to be a season of "need to confront." The challenge, of course, is that in confronting "issues" we are always confronting people.

I've learned some vital lessons about confrontation:
1. It's necessary for growth/health of relationships (ergo, it's a "good thing")
2. It's hard. You don't wake up wanting to do it, because to do it well means taking "you" out of it -- and any desire for punishment/revenge.
3. You have to just as open to receiving as you are to giving.


Today, I confronted school officials for an extremely condesending and pompus e-mail received by all parents with students in a particular school activity. I was professional, polite, and measured in my response. It was absent any "in kind" tone and minus any personal defense of myself, my husband or my step son.

My desire was that my response would "fix" the situation.

It won't.

Confrontation that works is more than a response. All I've done to-date is make them aware of my discontent. What I realized (after sending it) is that I have opened the door to what can be growth if I'm willing to invest in the relationships. I need to understand their point of view, offer assistance where I can, and establish boundaries in the process that are consistent with me as parent -- them as school officials. That's what confronting in grace for the purpose of growth means.

I'd rather return a polite and well-written (if I do say so myself) piece of prose that "makes them" stop...change... whatever. It's not that easy.

Help me with your wisdom by weighing in on how to confront well and achieve more than "getting it off your chest."

Thanks!

Obedience in the trenches

If you ask me if I desire to be obedient to God, I will joyfully exclaim, "Yes, Lord, I will follow you! Just show me what you want me to do."

But when I considered that being obedient meant helping my Dad move into a new home this past weekend, I admit I didn't jump for joy.

Moving is never a fun process. The inevitable back ache, scraped knuckles, and stubbed toe were part of it all. But the really difficult thing was obeying. Dad was very grateful for the help; still his style is calling out orders and having me jump, fetch, open, close, reach, pick up, hold this, grab that... You get the picture.

I'm 46-years-old. It's been almost 30 years since I lived at home. Following orders was way more challenging than I'd anticipated. I didn't always respond with grace and kindness. I did get short with him a few times. I even barked at my sweet husband who was serving both Dad and me with grace.

The bottom line is that I forgot who I was serving. Even though I love my Dad and want to help him, I want to do it on my terms. Being told what to do at each step took me back to a place where I was a powerless kid. It didn't feel very good. Nonetheless, it was good for me.

I was forced to face the fact that in being obedient to God, I will need to be obedient in service to others on their terms, not mine. It was also a powerful "mirroring" of how I can render my step-sons powerless when I dictate how and when things should be done.

Those aches hurt worse than my back, but they are, I pray, growing pains.