I remember my brother quoting that years ago, using a gentle voice as if to convey some insightful wisdom. Cracked me up. My coworkers get to hear me repeat it with a similar contemplative voice. Poor guys.
I remember reading a book a couple of decades ago in which the author said, "There's never reason to be unkind."
"What?!" I had to read that section a few more times. He wasn't kidding, and he wasn't stupid. He talked about some tough situations, and he talked about still choosing to have a kind response. He wasn't saying that there are never sources of irritation or pain; rather, he was talking about the response I have control over. He was seeking to persuade me that not only was a kind response far better than an angry one but that it was also do-able. It was a profound idea to me. Clearly that was not part of my view on how to respond to things that irritated me or made me angry. How in the heck did he ever get to that point of not only self-control but extending kindness?
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Greg has dropped by several times. I have enjoyed our visits. He's a kind guy. Dad has come up a lot in our conversations. Greg remembers Dad from when Greg was a boy. Dad caught his eye--he looked different from other adults. Dad always appeared to be thinking about something, seemed to be thoughtful. Dad wasn't just another adult drifting along; he had an active mind. Greg was intrigued.
Mom and Dad were there in some important times in Greg's life; they left an impression on him. And he wanted to reconnect with them now as an adult, to get caught up on whatever had happened in each others' lives. And he got to visit a few times in the years before Dad died.
I'm lucky now. I get to hear from Greg about Dad and remember Dad's kindness. Dad had that thinking look on his face. "Why do you suppose he thought so much, measured his words, spoke slowly?" I asked Mom. The three of us agreed he was considerate, wanting to show care to those with whom he was speaking.
Dad learned something key long ago, whatever it was. He made the shift from being angry inside and out to being a careful responder and a kind person. Hey, he didn't get it right all the time; the images of him frowning quickly blur among the images of him extending kindness even in the face of interruption, disrespect, unkindness.
I see that in my sister Jan, too. There's no agenda to right wrongs, no need to clarify her position. She extends kindness and blessing through words or a cheerful voice or simply a smile; I think about this and have to pause when I think of how I find out a couple days later that she was feeling nauseated or had barely slept the night or nights before or had back pain that made it hard for her to find a comfortable position. And then two days later find out that the reason her arm went numb and headache increased was that she had a tennis-ball size tumor in her head. And if she finds opportunity to love others and pray for them and be kind, she'll give it her best.
What will it take for me to get to that place? What excuses am I unknowingly and knowingly using to continue responses that fall short of kindness? Wow.
