I had a customer come into my store last Sunday looking for a supplement to help his wife's hot flashes. As I walked him to the location of where they were he proceeded to tell me his wife has stage 4 breast cancer so he didn't want the supplement to aggravate that any further. I noticed he was very distraught (understandably so) and found him something that would work naturally for her without aggravating the estrogen levels and the cancer. He got a phone call while looking at the item so I left him alone and continued on with my work. After a few minutes past I heard his voice thanking me from down the aisle and heading towards the door. I asked him if the supplement I choose for him would work and he said his wife wanted to check with her doctor because she was afraid to take anything at this point. I asked how she was doing and my customer said "Vicki is not doing so well, after removing 18 lymph nodes and chemotherapy the cancer has come back and at this point there is nothing left anyone can do". He started to cry....
He then proceeded to tell me right before her diagnoses he lost his job and they did not have health insurance so this cancer has done more damage financially, emotionally and mentally then he could ever imagine.... the bank wants their house back. I asked for his name since he told me his wife's name... Robert, he said. Robert told me he has been married to Vicki for 30 years and that she was his best friend. He told me in 30 years he had never lied to her and when the sheriffs dept came to his house to serve him his eviction papers from the bank he didn't have the heart to tell her why. Vicki asked why the sheriffs dept was at their house and he told her it was for a neighborhood watch.... he told me that lie is eating him up inside and he just couldn't tell her they are losing their home while she is dying.
Robert said he could care less about the house, it was Vicki he was concerned with... he said, "I don't know what I'm going to do without her". As tears continued to fall from his eyes I felt his pain, fear, and isolation... he continues to tell me his mother died two months earlier and his father nine months earlier from that. This man has lost two parents and is in the process of losing his wife and home all in one year - ugghhhh.
After talking for a while longer I asked Robert to come back soon and let me know how things are. I told him I would (and am still doing) pray for both of them. After he left I was so overwhelmed with emotion I stepped off the floor to "breath".
I have heard all sorts of "problems" from my customers about this holiday season...I myself have complained about some things, but after listening to Robert it makes all of life's trivial matters worthless. There is always someone else with much worse circumstances. We must be thankful for what we have and give to those who don't have... that being time or resources. Let's face it, we will all cross the bridge of "circumstances". Many of us are on that bridge and many will never make it across. Start building a solid bridge now so that when your time comes the foundation on which you stand will be firm.
All the money in the world couldn't save Steve Jobs and it won't save Vicki... The trials we face may differ but because they are personal to each one of us they are painful and you cannot buy strength or peace... just remember they are a gift from the Lord - but only for those who know Him. The verse I gave Robert was Romans 8:28. You may think your strong now but just want until the storm hits - will you be ready?
Please pray for this couple - Robert and Vicki
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Stone Soup
Many years ago three soldiers, hungry and weary of battle, came upon a small village. The villagers, suffering a meager harvest and the many years of war, quickly hid what little they had to eat and met the three at the village square, wringing their hands and bemoaning the lack of anything to eat.
The soldiers spoke quietly among themselves and the first soldier then turned to the village elders. "Your tired fields have left you nothing to share, so we will share what little we have: the secret of how to make soup from stones."
Naturally the villagers were intrigued and soon a fire was put to the town's greatest kettle as the soldiers dropped in three smooth stones. "Now this will be a fine soup", said the second soldier; "but a pinch of salt and some parsley would make it wonderful!" Up jumped a villager, crying "What luck! I've just remembered where some's been left!" And off she ran, returning with an apronful of parsley and a turnip. As the kettle boiled on, the memory of the village improved: soon barley, carrots, beef and cream had found their way into the great pot, and a cask of wine was rolled into the square as all sat down to feast.
They ate and danced and sang well into the night, refreshed by the feast and their new-found friends. In the morning the three soldiers awoke to find the entire village standing before them. At their feet lay a satchel of the village's best breads and cheese. "You have given us the greatest of gifts: the secret of how to make soup from stones", said an elder, "and we shall never forget." The third soldier turned to the crowd, and said: "There is no secret, but this is certain: it is only by sharing that we may make a feast". And off the soldiers wandered, down the road.
The soldiers spoke quietly among themselves and the first soldier then turned to the village elders. "Your tired fields have left you nothing to share, so we will share what little we have: the secret of how to make soup from stones."
Naturally the villagers were intrigued and soon a fire was put to the town's greatest kettle as the soldiers dropped in three smooth stones. "Now this will be a fine soup", said the second soldier; "but a pinch of salt and some parsley would make it wonderful!" Up jumped a villager, crying "What luck! I've just remembered where some's been left!" And off she ran, returning with an apronful of parsley and a turnip. As the kettle boiled on, the memory of the village improved: soon barley, carrots, beef and cream had found their way into the great pot, and a cask of wine was rolled into the square as all sat down to feast.
They ate and danced and sang well into the night, refreshed by the feast and their new-found friends. In the morning the three soldiers awoke to find the entire village standing before them. At their feet lay a satchel of the village's best breads and cheese. "You have given us the greatest of gifts: the secret of how to make soup from stones", said an elder, "and we shall never forget." The third soldier turned to the crowd, and said: "There is no secret, but this is certain: it is only by sharing that we may make a feast". And off the soldiers wandered, down the road.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Memories Of The Mississippi by Deborah Rogers
After Mom died, Dad and I took a trip together every summer. Just the two of us, father and daughter. This was especially meaningful because Dad was aging and we lived two thousand miles apart - so a week with Dad, undistracted from other family members or from work was a treat.
Our first destination was a cruise up the Mississippi. We boarded the steamboat in St. Louis and noticed that we were some of the youngest people on the cruise! Even Dad, at 73 looked young! We sat in rocking chairs on the deck, the warm breeze blowing on our faces, admiring the lush green trees lining the mighty river. A jazz band played in the background.
On the deck we met John, who met the love of his life at a singles dance for senior citizens and asked her to marry him two weeks later. It’s John’s first marriage at sixty-five. Then there was Jane, a teacher from Little Rock, Arkansas who danced with Bill Clinton decades ago at a school fundraiser. Sometimes on the deck Dad and I sat quietly, reading.
At lunchtime we stood in line for the buffet. People asked if Dad was my brother! Amazing for our thirty-eight-year age difference! Dad filled his plate with bread, meats, and cheeses to make a sandwich. The most important ingredient to any sandwich was mayonnaise. Dad loved mayonnaise! Anything else between two pieces of bread was extra fillings.
After lunch we docked at Alton, Missouri. This small town was home to dozens and dozens of antique shops. Dad, with little interest in shopping or antiques (although he’s almost an antique himself) walked in and out of shop after shop. We walked up the hill, down the hill, and through the old town. We walked all day. It was the longest time I ever spent shopping with Dad. He was a good sport to come along, simply to spend time with me.
Each day blended together like the last, until seven days passed. On the seventh day we reached Minnesota, the top of the Mississippi, and my home, Minneapolis. Dad saw my house for the first time and met my two cats, Coconut and Coffee Bean. Coconut sat on his lap and purred. The two became quick friends.
This was the first of many trips we planned together, but unfortunately, it would be our last. Dad died a few months later from being hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street in his home town of Sacramento California. What made this trip special was our time together, the two of us. I had grown from the teenager embarrassed to be with Dad to the adult cherishing our time together. I'll always treasure these memories of my father, and be proud of who I have become.
Our first destination was a cruise up the Mississippi. We boarded the steamboat in St. Louis and noticed that we were some of the youngest people on the cruise! Even Dad, at 73 looked young! We sat in rocking chairs on the deck, the warm breeze blowing on our faces, admiring the lush green trees lining the mighty river. A jazz band played in the background.
On the deck we met John, who met the love of his life at a singles dance for senior citizens and asked her to marry him two weeks later. It’s John’s first marriage at sixty-five. Then there was Jane, a teacher from Little Rock, Arkansas who danced with Bill Clinton decades ago at a school fundraiser. Sometimes on the deck Dad and I sat quietly, reading.
At lunchtime we stood in line for the buffet. People asked if Dad was my brother! Amazing for our thirty-eight-year age difference! Dad filled his plate with bread, meats, and cheeses to make a sandwich. The most important ingredient to any sandwich was mayonnaise. Dad loved mayonnaise! Anything else between two pieces of bread was extra fillings.
After lunch we docked at Alton, Missouri. This small town was home to dozens and dozens of antique shops. Dad, with little interest in shopping or antiques (although he’s almost an antique himself) walked in and out of shop after shop. We walked up the hill, down the hill, and through the old town. We walked all day. It was the longest time I ever spent shopping with Dad. He was a good sport to come along, simply to spend time with me.
Each day blended together like the last, until seven days passed. On the seventh day we reached Minnesota, the top of the Mississippi, and my home, Minneapolis. Dad saw my house for the first time and met my two cats, Coconut and Coffee Bean. Coconut sat on his lap and purred. The two became quick friends.
This was the first of many trips we planned together, but unfortunately, it would be our last. Dad died a few months later from being hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street in his home town of Sacramento California. What made this trip special was our time together, the two of us. I had grown from the teenager embarrassed to be with Dad to the adult cherishing our time together. I'll always treasure these memories of my father, and be proud of who I have become.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Pretty One by Roger Dean Kiser
It had been a very long night. Our black cocker spaniel 'Precious' was having a difficult delivery. I lay on the floor beside her large four-foot square cage, watching her every movement. Watching and waiting, just in case I had to rush her to the veterinarian.
After six hours the puppies started to appear. The first-born was black and white. The second and third puppies were tan and brown in color. The fourth and fifth were also spotted black and white. "One, two, three, four, five," I counted to myself as I walked down the hallway to wake my wife, Judy, and tell her that everything was fine.
As we walked back down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, I noticed a sixth puppy had been born and was now laying all by itself over to the side of the cage. I picked up the small puppy and laid it on top of the large pile of puppies, who were whining and trying to nurse on the mother. Precious immediately pushed the small puppy away from rest of the group. She refused to recognize it as a member of her family.
"Something's wrong," said Judy.
I reached over and picked up the puppy. My heart sank inside my chest when I saw the little puppy had a cleft lip and palate and could not close its little mouth. I decided right there and then that if there was any way to save this animal I was going to give it my best shot.
I took the puppy to the vet and was told nothing could be done unless we were willing to spend about a thousand dollars to try and correct the defect. He told us that the puppy would die mainly because it could not suckle. After returning home, Judy and I decided that we could not afford to spend that kind of money without getting some type of assurance from the vet that the puppy had a chance to live. However, that did not stop me from purchasing a syringe and feeding the puppy by hand. Which I did every day and night, every two hours, for more than ten days. The little puppy survived and learned to eat on his own as long as it was soft canned food.
The fifth week I placed an ad in the newspaper, and within a week we had people interested in all of the pups, except the one with the deformity. Late one afternoon I went to the store to pick up a few groceries. Upon returning I happened to see the old retired schoolteacher, who lived across the street from us, waving at me. She had read in the paper that we had puppies and was wondering if she might get one from us for her grandson and his family. I told her all the puppies had found homes, but I would keep my eyes open for anyone else who might have an available cocker spaniel. I also mentioned that if someone should change their mind, I would let her know. Within days, all but one of the puppies had been picked up by their new families. This left me with one brown and tan cocker as well as the smaller puppy with the cleft lip and palate.
Two days passed without me hearing anything from the gentleman who had been promised the tan and brown pup. I telephoned the schoolteacher and told her I had one puppy left and that she was welcome to come and look at it. She advised me that she was going to pick up her grandson and would come over at about eight o'clock that evening.
That night at around seven-thirty, Judy and I were eating supper when we heard a knock on the front door. When I opened the door, the man who had wanted the tan and brown pup was standing there. We walked inside, took care of the adoption details and I handed him the puppy. Judy and I did not know what we would do or say when the teacher showed up with her grandson. At exactly eight o'clock the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was the schoolteacher with her grandson standing behind her. I explained to her the man had come for the puppy after all, and there were no puppies left. "I'm sorry, Jeffery. They found homes for all the puppies," she told her grandson.
Just at that moment, the small puppy left in the bedroom began to yelp.
"My puppy! My puppy!" yelled the little boy as he ran out from behind his grandmother.
I just about fell over when I saw that the small child also had a cleft lip and palate. The boy ran past me as fast as he could, down the hallway to where the puppy was still yelping. When the three of us made it to the bedroom, the small boy was holding the puppy in his arms. He looked up at his grandmother and said, "Look, Grandma. They found homes for all the puppies except the pretty one, and he looks just like me.”
The schoolteacher turned to us, "Is this puppy available?"
“Yes,” I answered. “That puppy is available.”
The little boy, who was now hugging the puppy, chimed in, "My grandma told me these kind of puppies are real expensive and that I have to take real good care of it."
The lady opened her purse, but I reached over and pushed her hand back down into her purse so that she would not pull her wallet out. "How much do you think this puppy is worth?" I asked the boy. "About a dollar?" "No. This puppy is very, very expensive," he replied.
"More than a dollar?" I asked.
"I'm afraid so," said his grandmother.
The boy stood there pressing the small puppy against his cheek. "We could not possibly take less than two dollars for this puppy," Judy said, squeezing my hand. "Like you said, it's the pretty one."
The schoolteacher took out two dollars and handed it to the young boy.
"It's your dog now, Jeffery. You pay the man."
Still holding the puppy tightly, the boy proudly handed me the money. Any worries I’d had about the puppy’s future were gone.
The image of the little boy and his matching pup stays with me still. I think it must be a wonderful feeling for any young person to look at themselves in the mirror and see nothing, except "the pretty one."
After six hours the puppies started to appear. The first-born was black and white. The second and third puppies were tan and brown in color. The fourth and fifth were also spotted black and white. "One, two, three, four, five," I counted to myself as I walked down the hallway to wake my wife, Judy, and tell her that everything was fine.
As we walked back down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, I noticed a sixth puppy had been born and was now laying all by itself over to the side of the cage. I picked up the small puppy and laid it on top of the large pile of puppies, who were whining and trying to nurse on the mother. Precious immediately pushed the small puppy away from rest of the group. She refused to recognize it as a member of her family.
"Something's wrong," said Judy.
I reached over and picked up the puppy. My heart sank inside my chest when I saw the little puppy had a cleft lip and palate and could not close its little mouth. I decided right there and then that if there was any way to save this animal I was going to give it my best shot.
I took the puppy to the vet and was told nothing could be done unless we were willing to spend about a thousand dollars to try and correct the defect. He told us that the puppy would die mainly because it could not suckle. After returning home, Judy and I decided that we could not afford to spend that kind of money without getting some type of assurance from the vet that the puppy had a chance to live. However, that did not stop me from purchasing a syringe and feeding the puppy by hand. Which I did every day and night, every two hours, for more than ten days. The little puppy survived and learned to eat on his own as long as it was soft canned food.
The fifth week I placed an ad in the newspaper, and within a week we had people interested in all of the pups, except the one with the deformity. Late one afternoon I went to the store to pick up a few groceries. Upon returning I happened to see the old retired schoolteacher, who lived across the street from us, waving at me. She had read in the paper that we had puppies and was wondering if she might get one from us for her grandson and his family. I told her all the puppies had found homes, but I would keep my eyes open for anyone else who might have an available cocker spaniel. I also mentioned that if someone should change their mind, I would let her know. Within days, all but one of the puppies had been picked up by their new families. This left me with one brown and tan cocker as well as the smaller puppy with the cleft lip and palate.
Two days passed without me hearing anything from the gentleman who had been promised the tan and brown pup. I telephoned the schoolteacher and told her I had one puppy left and that she was welcome to come and look at it. She advised me that she was going to pick up her grandson and would come over at about eight o'clock that evening.
That night at around seven-thirty, Judy and I were eating supper when we heard a knock on the front door. When I opened the door, the man who had wanted the tan and brown pup was standing there. We walked inside, took care of the adoption details and I handed him the puppy. Judy and I did not know what we would do or say when the teacher showed up with her grandson. At exactly eight o'clock the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was the schoolteacher with her grandson standing behind her. I explained to her the man had come for the puppy after all, and there were no puppies left. "I'm sorry, Jeffery. They found homes for all the puppies," she told her grandson.
Just at that moment, the small puppy left in the bedroom began to yelp.
"My puppy! My puppy!" yelled the little boy as he ran out from behind his grandmother.
I just about fell over when I saw that the small child also had a cleft lip and palate. The boy ran past me as fast as he could, down the hallway to where the puppy was still yelping. When the three of us made it to the bedroom, the small boy was holding the puppy in his arms. He looked up at his grandmother and said, "Look, Grandma. They found homes for all the puppies except the pretty one, and he looks just like me.”
The schoolteacher turned to us, "Is this puppy available?"
“Yes,” I answered. “That puppy is available.”
The little boy, who was now hugging the puppy, chimed in, "My grandma told me these kind of puppies are real expensive and that I have to take real good care of it."
The lady opened her purse, but I reached over and pushed her hand back down into her purse so that she would not pull her wallet out. "How much do you think this puppy is worth?" I asked the boy. "About a dollar?" "No. This puppy is very, very expensive," he replied.
"More than a dollar?" I asked.
"I'm afraid so," said his grandmother.
The boy stood there pressing the small puppy against his cheek. "We could not possibly take less than two dollars for this puppy," Judy said, squeezing my hand. "Like you said, it's the pretty one."
The schoolteacher took out two dollars and handed it to the young boy.
"It's your dog now, Jeffery. You pay the man."
Still holding the puppy tightly, the boy proudly handed me the money. Any worries I’d had about the puppy’s future were gone.
The image of the little boy and his matching pup stays with me still. I think it must be a wonderful feeling for any young person to look at themselves in the mirror and see nothing, except "the pretty one."
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Living With a Passive-Aggressive Man.... Dr. David B. Hawkins
The passive-aggressive man is a confusion creator, and if you remain “hooked,” you will spin around in that cycle of confusion as well. He remembers things different from you and if you try to get him to see “the truth,” you’ll be hooked in his world of confusion. He twists the facts, rewrites history to put a positive spin on his behavior. This, however, makes you feel crazy. So, how are you going to stay clear, calm and connected with a passive-aggressive man? It will not be easy, but it can be done. You must master a few strategies.
First, understand passive-aggression. You cannot remain clear and calm if you don’t understand what is happening. If you remain reactive, you’ll be dancing from one encounter to another. Notice what is happening. When and where do you get hooked? What does he say that provokes you into snapping back aggressively? Notice these patterns and determine to remain clear about what is happening.
Second, determine to be active, not reactive. Choose how you will respond to him. In the face of his passive-aggressive actions, choose to be clear with him. Let him know how you see things. Refuse to get into a power struggle with him. Don’t try to change his mind or make him see things the way you see them. Be in charge of yourself, knowing what is true for you.
Third, keep agreements simple and doable. Create agreements that are likely to be kept by him. Choose your battles carefully. It is far better to have a simple life, with simple agreements, than try to enforce complex agreements that he will sabotage.
Fourth, maintain clear and firm boundaries. Don’t allow him to manipulate your point of view. Seek specific agreements, even writing them down for clarity. Reiterate those agreements with him to ensure clarity. When he violates boundaries, which he will do, state your feelings clearly and consistently.
Finally, celebrate modest victories. Understand you cannot make him do anything. However, you can introduce accountability into the relationship. Clarify how his behavior impacts you, asking for exactly what you need. Notice how even small victories create a positive connection with him.
First, understand passive-aggression. You cannot remain clear and calm if you don’t understand what is happening. If you remain reactive, you’ll be dancing from one encounter to another. Notice what is happening. When and where do you get hooked? What does he say that provokes you into snapping back aggressively? Notice these patterns and determine to remain clear about what is happening.
Second, determine to be active, not reactive. Choose how you will respond to him. In the face of his passive-aggressive actions, choose to be clear with him. Let him know how you see things. Refuse to get into a power struggle with him. Don’t try to change his mind or make him see things the way you see them. Be in charge of yourself, knowing what is true for you.
Third, keep agreements simple and doable. Create agreements that are likely to be kept by him. Choose your battles carefully. It is far better to have a simple life, with simple agreements, than try to enforce complex agreements that he will sabotage.
Fourth, maintain clear and firm boundaries. Don’t allow him to manipulate your point of view. Seek specific agreements, even writing them down for clarity. Reiterate those agreements with him to ensure clarity. When he violates boundaries, which he will do, state your feelings clearly and consistently.
Finally, celebrate modest victories. Understand you cannot make him do anything. However, you can introduce accountability into the relationship. Clarify how his behavior impacts you, asking for exactly what you need. Notice how even small victories create a positive connection with him.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
They're Singing Your Song
When a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness
with a few friends and together they pray and
meditate until they hear the song of the child.
They recognize that every soul has its own vibration
that expresses its unique flavor and purpose. When
the women attune to the song, they sing it out loud.
Then they return to the tribe and teach it to everyone
else.
When the child is born, the community gathers and sings the child's song to him or her. Later, when the child enters education, the village gathers and chants the child's song. When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood, the people again come
together and sing. At the time of marriage, the person hears his or her song.
Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at the person's bed, just as they did at their birth, and they sing the person to the next life.
To the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community
form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.
The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it. Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn't. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well.
You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you'll find your way home.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
The Passive-Aggressive Spouse
Are you dealing with a Passive Aggressive spouse? If you are, you’re probably pretty desperate to find help in dealing with this issue, because it’s one that is certainly perplexing, to say the very least!
It’s difficult to deal with someone who seems to have such a slippery way of doing things. He or she can appear to be passive, but then does things that contradict that stance.
How exactly is the term, passive aggressive defined?
Still, the article is a good one, so we encourage you to read it by clicking onto:
Here are a few other things you might find helpful to read, concerning this type of behavior (and click onto the links after the quotes to learn more):
If you are a passive-aggressive spouse, therapist Jay Earley, Ph.D., offers these further suggestions for creating a healthier attitude:
It’s difficult to deal with someone who seems to have such a slippery way of doing things. He or she can appear to be passive, but then does things that contradict that stance.
“The passive aggressive will say one thing, do another, and then deny ever saying the first thing. They don’t communicate their needs and wishes in a clear manner, expecting their spouse to read their mind and meet their needs. After all, if their spouse truly loved them he/she would just naturally know what they needed or wanted. The passive aggressive withholds information about how he/she feels; their ego is fragile and can’t take the slightest criticism. So why would they let you know what they are thinking or feeling?” (Cathy Meyer, from article “Passive Aggressive Behavior, a Form of Covert Abuse“)Does this sound familiar? Most likely, if you’ve dealt with someone who is passive aggressive… and it’s frustrating.
How exactly is the term, passive aggressive defined?
“Passive-aggressive: Pertaining to behavior in which feelings of aggression are expressed in passive ways as, for example, by stubbornness, sullenness, procrastination, or intentional inefficiency” (from Medicine.net)Medline Plus gives this insight:
“Some common symptoms of passive-aggressive personality disorder include:Cathy Meyer gives even further insight:
“A person with this disorder may appear to comply with another’s wishes and may even demonstrate enthusiasm for those wishes. However, they:
- Acting sullen
- Avoiding responsibility by claiming forgetfulness
- Being inefficient on purpose
- Blaming others
- Complaining
- Feeling resentment
- Having a fear of authority
- Having unexpressed anger or hostility
- Procrastinating
- Resisting other people’s suggestions.
- Perform the requested action too late to be helpful
- Perform it in a way that is useless
- Sabotage the action to show anger that they cannot express in words.”
“Passive aggressive behavior stems from an inability to express anger in a healthy way. A person’s feelings may be so repressed that they don’t even realize they are angry or feeling resentment. A passive aggressive can drive people around him/her crazy and seem sincerely dismayed when confronted with their behavior. Due to their own lack of insight into their feelings the passive aggressive often feels that others misunderstand them or, are holding them to unreasonable standards if they are confronted about their behavior.”In the above mentioned article, Cathy Meyer then goes on to give “some ways you might approach your passive aggressive.” You may find it helpful to read the entire article, including ways to approach your spouse, but I want to give you a “heads up” because for some reason, the About.com web site, for some reason, put it in the “Divorce Support” section —which is not something we’re trying to encourage —supporting divorcing your passive-agreesive, but rather dealing with it in the best way possible with the Lord’s help.
“…If you confront the passive aggressive he/she will most likely sulk, give you the silent treatment or completely walk away leaving you standing there to deal with the problem alone. There are two reasons for confronting the passive aggressive. One, if done correctly you may be able to help him/her gain insight into the negative consequences of their behaviors. Two, even if that doesn’t happen, it will at least give you the opportunity to talk to him/her in a frank way about how his/her behavior affects you. If nothing else you can get a few things ‘off your chest.’” (from article “Passive Aggressive Behavior, a Form of Covert Abuse“).
Still, the article is a good one, so we encourage you to read it by clicking onto:
Here are a few other things you might find helpful to read, concerning this type of behavior (and click onto the links after the quotes to learn more):
“Passive-Aggressive people don’t usually like the aggressive posture over any issue; they’ll rather say ‘Yes’ when they already know what they are going to do. The yes is to get their aggressive spouse out of their face. Rather than speak up their concern on an issue they keep quite but their displeasure is displayed in their behavior, he/she might walk around the house banging the door after them, react to their spouse with short sentences, or act to sabotage their spouse to get even or get back at them. You never really know what’s on their mind, when they say yes, as a spouse you watch if that yes is really yes or yes – get out of my face or yes – I already know what I want to do.” (from the Christiancouples.org” article, “Home Improvement Series XXXVIII – Wired Uniquely?“)From the Couples Institute, Peter Pearson, Ph.D writes:
“Passive-aggressive people are typically hypersensitive to actual or perceived criticism. Especially when they don’t follow through with promises. Here’s the kicker. They have great gobs of good reasons for not following through with crucial agreements.” (Does Your Partner Drive You Nuts? …The Passive Aggressive Personality)As a spouse, you are “doomed” if you get angry and “doomed” if you say nothing. “Welcome to the crazy world of the passive aggressive partner” says Dr Peter Pearson, who claims to battle with this disorder himself. He writes:
“The passive aggressive person generally feels they are under assault and no matter what they do, they cannot please their partner. …The other partner believes they cannot depend on the passive aggressive mate to reliably follow through. Even if I am 80% reliable, as I would sometimes point out to [wife] Ellyn, she has no idea what the 80% will be or when it will be completed. This screws up the logistical part of being an effective team which supports being an effective couple.”Deborah Ward offers this insight as well:
“So what causes this aggravating problem that painfully affects both partners in different ways? Most passive aggressive folks have two things in common:
1. “A highly critical parent or parents, resulting in a highsensitivity to being judged on performance.
2. “A lot of painful disappointments in life. This results in a reflexive coping mechanism that severely restricts their hopes and desires in life. Minimizing desires is a subconscious attempt to avoid getting hopes up and then dashed which triggers a warehouse of painful disappointments stored in the emotional brain.”(Does Your Partner Drive You Nuts? …The Passive Aggressive Personality, by Peter Pearson, Ph.D, Sep 15, 2005)
“Certain situations will tend to activate passive-aggressive behaviour, including circumstances in which the person’s performance will be judged, or he thinks it will, says therapist Jay Earley, Ph.D., such as in the workplace. Similarly, any situation where the passive-aggressor has to deal with authority figures, such as bosses, parents, teachers, community leaders and even spouses, will often trigger an indirectly angry approach.There are other reasons, you can be sure. But whatever the reason, or excuse, how can you deal with it:
“…Passive-Aggressive personality disorder develops as a result of a combination of genetics and environment, says Earley. Essentially, this person feels that aggression is not allowed and to survive, he has to express his anger indirectly and defeat others in the only way he feels he can.” (from Suite101.com article, “Causes of Passive Aggression“)
If you are a passive-aggressive spouse, therapist Jay Earley, Ph.D., offers these further suggestions for creating a healthier attitude:
If you’re dealing with a husband who inflicts this behavior upon you and your marriage:
- “Become aware of the underlying anger and resentment that is causing your behaviour.
- Become aware of your desire to defeat others, get back at them or annoy them.
- Become aware of your need to fail in order to get back at others.
- Work on allowing yourself to be just who you are, or feeling that you are okay as you are, that your sense of worth doesn’t depend on other people’s opinions
- Work on expressing your anger and standing up for yourself.” (from Suite101.com article, “Healing and Dealing with Passive-Aggression“)
“How are you going to stay clear, calm and connected with a passive-aggressive man? It will not be easy, but it can be done. You must master a few strategies.And the list and explanations go on. To learn more on this behavior and some strategies” to help you live with your passive-aggressive spouse, please click onto the Crosswalk.com article, written by Dr. David B Hawkins, to read:
“First, understand passive-aggression. You cannot remain clear and calm if you don’t understand what is happening. If you remain reactive, you’ll be dancing from one encounter to another. Notice what is happening. When and where do you get hooked? What does he say that provokes you into snapping back aggressively? Notice these patterns and determine to remain clear about what is happening.
“Second, determine to be active, not reactive…”
“How do women love passive-aggressive husbands?”That’s the question that’s addressed in this next article. Here’s what the author wrote:
1. “First, understand passive-aggression. You cannot remain clear and calm if you don’t understand what is happening. If you remain reactive, you’ll be dancing from one encounter to another. Notice what is happening. What does he say that provokes you into snapping back aggressively? Notice these patterns and determine to remain clear about what is happening.”
And then the list goes on to make 11 additional points to help wives who are living with a passive aggressive husband. Many of these points can be applied to husbands living with a passive aggressive wife, as well.
For more, please click onto the following link to read:
We realize this article is not exhaustive in the information it gives, but hopefully, it gives you some insights. If you are dealing with a passive aggressive spouse, keep asking the Holy Spirit to guide you to healthy information that will work for you in dealing with this marital issue. And then keep on the look-out, for what He brings your way.
May the Lord help you, as you put your hand into His for guidance.
This article was written by Cindy Wright
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