My children do say "hate"

Recently I was asked two questions about my parenting.  One, do you let your children say, "I hate you" to each other, and two do you make them say they're sorry.  The answers yes to the first and no to the second.  Shocking I'm sure that a mother, a priest and mother at that, would answer that way. Read on if you're not too shocked because, well it's not that simple--

I believe we all parent from so many perspectives--we parent in ways our parents did, and we parent in ways directly contradictory to our parents.  We parent from our places of confidence and we parent from our places of brokenness.  My choice with these two questions comes from all those places.

In my home growing up, we were absolutely not allowed to say "I hate you".  "We don't hate people in our family and we certainly don't say that" was how my mother explained it.  What I heard was, "we don't feel that way."  Which was very confusing to me because, frankly sometimes I did feel that way.  So I internalized those thoughts and they turned into, "if you have those feelings you are bad."  And then the "I'm sorry" part of it.  We were forced to immediately apologize if heaven forbid we did let out a negative emotion.  (Parents were exempt from this rule--another lesson I learned.)  So what I learned is that I must always say I'm sorry first maybe even before anyone knew how bad I was, and that I was responsible for everything and everyone.  What it's raining and you want it to be sunny?  I'm sorry.  You don't like your teacher, job, house, fill in the blank--I'm sorry; I'm pretty sure that somehow it's my fault and if not my fault I should still take responsibility for it--try to fix it.  You know, keep the peace, make everyone happy at all cost;--I was such a good middle child.  The fact of the matter is, the cost to me was huge.  Without going too far off subject, the result from these teachings kept me in relationships I should have ended and left me not trusting my own emotions.

So here's the long answer to the questions I was asked.  First, "let" is not exactly the word I would use.  Let indicates I have complete control over my children and anyone that has ever stepped foot in our home or been around us knows that is completely false.  I wouldn't say "let" or "allow".  What I do try to do is acknowledge their feelings; I do not deny that in that very moment they probably do feel an emotion that is so powerful that the only word they have to describe it is "hate."  And I acknowledge that there are many feelings and often they are confusing, they are intense, and they are difficult.

Our feelings and emotions are ours and ours alone.  And I firmly believe that all emotions are given to us by God.  Read the psalms--every emotion under the sun is written into that beautiful book.  Strong emotions that even if they don't use the word "hate" certainly point to the feeling.  Consider Psalm 137:9 that says, "happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!" or Psalm 69:22-28 which wants God to set a trap for people, strike people down, add guilt to their guilt.  I'm fairly certain these people felt an emotion at least equivalent to the one my children feel when they say, "I hate you."  (Read also, Psalm 139:21-22; Psalm 18:37-40 just to name a few more)

What do I do?  Well I acknowledge they are feeling a very strong emotion at that moment and I separate the two (or three or four).  Strong emotions can cause us to say and do things we regret later, so separation is, in my opinion, an appropriate action.  Truth is that 99% of the time after separation the apologies come on their own with no prompting from me.  For that I feel blessed.

 But we do talk about apologies and forgiveness.  And we talk about how holding grudges really only hurts the one holding the grudge.  (these conversations are not always in the moment but have occurred over time).  We talk about the fact that we all make mistakes in things we say and do (James 3:2 "For all of us make many mistakes.  Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect.) and we talk about the power of the tongue (Proverbs 15:1, Psalm 19:14, 1 Peter 3:10, Proverbs 10:19).  We talk about how words spoken can never be taken back and they can cause as much or more damage as a physical attack.  And we talk about forgiveness.  And  I talk about how everyone else will come and go but you'll always have your siblings. I don't just talk about that, they see it.  They know that my siblings are the most important people in the world to me after Chris and the children.  They know that my sister is the first person I call with any emotion I have, and they know that sometimes we get mad at each other, but they also know that loving her is as natural as breathing.

One of the readings at our wedding was Colossians 3:12-17.  Verse 13 says, "Bear with one another and , if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other as the Lord has forgiven you so you also must forgive."  I remember very clearly the homily given and The Rev. Donald Fishbourne (the Fish) saying, "Not if you hurt one another but when you hurt one another."  Those words were freeing--they acknowledged that we would hurt one another so I didn't have to feel like a terrible evil person if and when I did something intentionally or unintentionally that hurt Chris, and I didn't have to panic every time I messed up that he would leave me because he would find out how horrible I was.  (Just to be honest, they were freeing but they didn't just flip a switch; in order to internalize them it took years of prayer--and therapy--and a patient, loving and forgiving husband).  These words also spoke to the power of forgiveness.  Chris and I have relied on those words many times over the years--in our house parents do say they're sorry to each other and even to the children.  We are each and every one of us human, and we are learning everyday how to be in relationship with one another and with the world.  I want our home to be a haven; a place of safety to learn how to manage our feelings and to learn how to interact with the world.  Our home is not perfect; it is loud, possibly (okay probably) inappropriate in the conversations we allow, chaotic and intense.  I'm fairly certain I'm giving the children plenty of fodder for their own therapy sessions, (at least they'll be able to label their emotions) so in the meantime, I'll continue to acknowledge their feelings and to nurture their relationships.  So far, it's going okay.

My sister

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My rock