Childhood Lessons

Childhood Lessons

When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. 1 Corinthians 13:11

Newlyweds Kati and Ken were arguing, as usual, about who should take out the garbage. One evening, they continued the argument over coffee with an older neighbor.

“Wait a minute, you two,” she said. “When you were growing up, who always took care of the garbage?”

Kati answered, “My dad,” just as Ken said, “My mom.”

The neighbor smiled. “So you’re both assuming your home will be run by the same habits? Sounds like you two need to do a little more talking. Next thing you know, each of you will expect to be visiting your own family at Christmas and carry on exactly the same traditions you had as a child.”

As Kati and Ken looked at each other with a you-mean-we’ve-got-more-work-to-do? look, the neighbor chuckled. “Welcome to real life, kids. Anytime you want to talk, I’m here. My hubby and I had to go through the same thing. Everybody who’s trying to build a real marriage does.”

Claire had to learn about building a real marriage too. She had grown up in a home where her father was often absent, preferring the company of his bar buddies to his family. Claire often wouldn’t see him from Friday after work until late Sunday evening because he would be involved in long poker games.

A few months after Claire married, her husband was invited to participate in an after-work bridge game. He called to let her know he’d be late, but a furious Claire was waiting when he came through the door. She let him know she wouldn’t tolerate such activity.

“I know where this stuff leads,” she spouted. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold in our church; you can’t get involved like this.”

Bewildered, he took in the barrage. What was she talking about? He could have responded in kind, letting her know he’d play bridge anytime he jolly well pleased. But he chose to hear beyond the words.

Finally, as the truth dawned on him, he said gently, “It was just a few guys playing bridge for a couple of hours. No gambling went on, and nobody was drinking or fighting. I’m not your dad, honey.”

Startled, she stared at him, understanding at last she had really been yelling at her dad for his long absences years earlier. With tears in her eyes, she leaned against her husband’s chest, ready to begin growing up. —SANDRA

Lord, it is easy to project my childhood hurts onto those around me today. Help me to see situations as they are rather than as I perceive them to be. And help me not to overreact.

Success in marriage is more than finding the right person: it is being the right person. —ROBERT BROWNING (1812–1889), ENGLISH POET