An unintentional lesson plan

I learned the art of diplomacy at my father's knee. Actually, a more accurate observation would be to say that I learned the art of diplomacy "over" my father's knee.

Dealing with Dad was a lot like dealing with a two-headed serpent. Not only did he have a volatile temper, he was unpredictable as well. Just as soon as we five kids thought we had figured out what would or wouldn't set him off, it seemed he'd go off in a totally unexpected direction.

Dealing with his temper wouldn't have been quite so difficult if he was the type to just blow and go, moving on to something else, but he was bulldog tenacious and it wasn't unusual for a temper tantrum to take hours to subside. There we'd sit, oldest to youngest, side by side, on the couch while he paced in front of us, chastising each of us in turn for whatever infraction we had committed.

I can't recall a single point Dad made during these diatribes. I did however learn a few off key points from his method of presentation.

Point 1. Yelling is a turn-off. To this day, when someone begins to yell, I get very quiet and can almost feel my physical presence shrinking, until I am once again, a small defenseless child. To avoid inspiring those feelings in others, I seldom raise my voice. If I do, someone is in imminent danger of being run over by a truck or of cutting off all their fingers in a garbage disposal. When I am angered, I typically get quieter and quieter and more pointed with my words. Danny used to eavesdrop occasionally when I would have to take one or more of the children aside to chastise them for a wrongdoing. Invariably, he would make the comment, "Wow, you can really be mean."

I would immediately protest, defending myself by pointing out that I didn't yell at anyone, curse at anyone or hit anyone. He would concede those points and then say, "But when you talk like that, it sounds mean." (Emphasis his.)

Point 2. It was better in the long run to admit my fault, accept my punishment and hope to move on. Denying a deed or seeking to justify my actions merely proved to be a prelude to a marathon session on the couch, invariably followed by some sort of corporal punishment (adding injury to insult, to mangle a phrase). I learned early and well the benefit of "facing the music," "paying the piper," or "taking my medicine."

Point 3. I found this one in Scripture. I didn't know I was doing this until I discovered it in Matthew 5:25 "Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer and you may be thrown in prison." Dad never actually "took me to court," he was judge, jury and executioner in and of himself. A bad situation could quickly turn to catastrophe if I dared argue my point. That isn't to say that I don't have an opinion and feel free to express it when necessary, but I try to pick those battles carefully. No sense getting hauled in front of the judge unnecessarily.

Point 4. Although each one of us kids were made to feel like we were personally responsible for all of the ills in our father's world, in point of fact, it was less about us than it was about him. My father was an extremely insecure man who had, in his own eyes, failed miserably in every aspect of his life. I doubt he ever knew a moment of pure joy, so infrequently did he entertain the possibility that this life held such treasured moments. Of course, it was years before I began to understand his point of view and develop compassion for his wounded heart. Consequently, I, all too often, made the mistake of assuming I was somehow the center of his sorrow. I have since learned that, more often than not, when conflict comes, it has its root cause elsewhere and I try not to take it personally.

The final point I learned, both over my father's knee and during those marathon sessions on the couch, is that Proverbs 15:1 "A soft answer turns away wrath," is a lot like Ivory Soap -- 99.9 percent pure.

-- "Listen, my son, to your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching. They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck." Proverbs 1:8 (NIV)