A hole in the wall is a figure of speech. It means a small bar or restaurant that is dingy and off the beaten path. This hole in the wall is not that. This is an obvious hole caused by an upset child in a public hallway of our home. This hole in the wall represents an eruption of anger, rage, and sadness.
I noticed a picture hung on the wall in a new spot. It was a little low and in a strange location. I glanced at it but let it go because I was responding to my upset child. I knocked on the door and asked permission to enter. I was invited in, although somewhat reluctantly.
When I asked, “how are you doing?” or maybe it was “are you ok?”, I heard how I was doing parenting wrong. I heard how unfair and unequal I was between siblings. At first, I explained and defended myself. “No, this is what I did…this is what I intended.” And then, I stopped for a moment. I listened to their point of view and let them know that I understood what they were saying. I apologized.
Then their tears came. They told me that there was something they needed to say. Something they were afraid to tell me. I sat and waited.
“I kicked a hole in the wall and hid it behind the picture.”
I checked it out and saw the hole about the size of a fist or a heel.
“I’ll fix it”, they said. “I’m sorry.”
Then we hugged and laughed. Walls can be repaired. The materials paid out of allowance. The important thing for me was repairing the relationship. I needed to step outside of my righteousness, my judgment, and my point of view and listen. I needed to soften and listen. I needed to love and take the first step.
Recent Comments