Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Choleric

It's four weeks 'til Christmas Day...28 shopping days 'til all Christmas Gift Lists need to be fully checked off.

Perhaps you took full advantage of Black Friday. Or maybe the thought of venturing into the crowds is enough to set off an anxiety attack.

Gift-giving shouldn't be panic-producing; it should be fun!

In last week's Top Ten {Tuesday} blog, I shared gift ideas custom-tailored for the Phlegmatic Personalities on your shopping list. The week prior, we focused on the gifts-from-the-heart for Melancholy Personalities.

For this week's Top Ten {Tuesday}, I'm focusing on our Choleric (the "Powerful Personality") loved ones, who often appear so "together" that we wonder if we have anything of value to offer them. (We do!)

Keeping in mind that your Choleric's primary goal in life is control, and that her primary emotional needs are responsibility, achievement, appreciation, and loyalty, a real gift from your heart could be...

10. Offer to Take Orders.

Welcome any time, this gift is especially valuable when a Choleric is feeling overwhelmed. Bossing you around will give him a small sense of control; he’ll feel more hopeful immediately.

Annemarie often helps in my classroom. It’s amazing how much “stuff” she can de-clutter, how much trash she can throw out, and how many books she can re-organize in 60 minutes...and how much better I feel when she’s done!

So if you’re willing, say, “I have an hour during which I will do whatever you tell me.”

If he’s to overwhelmed to even know what he needs, try #3; or invite him to think it over, and then come back later.

9. Request “Expert” Help.

When I considered attending the Desire Conference, I asked Kathi if I could help her in any way. Attending alone, I knew that I’d feel -- and look! -- purposeless and foolish.

Kathi graciously invited me to help with her book table, “because you know my books so well!” Armed with a clearly defined role, I happily registered, arrived early, fulfilled my purpose, and never once felt foolish!

A Choleric wants to feel needed in a social setting. Give her a specific responsibility, preferably a task she is especially qualified to do. She will be far more at ease than if all she's supposed to do is “show up” (and then what?)

8. Share Time-Saving Tools.

Do not accidentally imply that your suggestion is necessary due to your Choleric's ineptitude! Be clear that you’re making the suggestion because they are so capable and so busy.

Try something like, “Because I know you ______, I thought of you when ______.” 



I've said to fellow teachers, “Because I know that you like to teach vocabulary in context, I thought of you when I ran across VocabProfile. Copy and paste any text into it, and it'll tell you which words are in the 1st K, 2nd K, on the Academic Word List, and which are Off List.”

I’ve just started using Evernote, and I'm going to suggest it to all my Choleric colleagues who collect articles, images, comics, etc. Multiple tags for individual items means powerful storage and sorting!

Important caveat: No matter how certain you are that your suggested tool will revolutionize a life, simply share and back away. It’s virtually impossible to create a “teachable moment” with a Choleric. Your gift is in the sharing...not the results!

7. Public Acknowledgement.

I’ll never forget walking on stage to receive a major award during a Discovery Toys Convention.

The company founder looked me in the eye, smiled broadly, and said, “I am so proud of you!”

As I hugged the Vice President of Sales, he said, “When you look out at the audience, you’ll see what a standing ovation looks like!” He then grandly led me to center stage, gestured forward, and I saw thousands of women on their feet, cheering and clapping, for me.

None of them knew me. All they knew was that I had worked hard, very hard. And instead of resenting me, these women stood to say that what’d I’d done mattered.

Not all Cholerics like the spotlight. But most crave to know that their efforts matter. “We couldn’t have _________ without ________!” is sweet music to Choleric ears.

6. Stand Up For Me & Stand By Me. 


Because of their driven nature, Cholerics can come across as independent, even arrogant. Acquaintances frequently watch for moments of weakness to “show them they’re not all that.” Even friends often back away at the first signs of difficulty, letting them trip, fall, and get back up on their own.

Almost nineteen years ago, I walked far too calmly into the Labor and Delivery ward. Nobody called my doctor; Daniel was sent downstairs to the Admitting Department.

After a torturous solo hour of transitional labor without epidural and moments from an emergency C-section, I cried to the attending physician, “I can’t push!”

“You have to!” he yelled.

“If my wife says she can’t push,” Daniel thundered, striding into the room and elbowing through the hastily-assembled crowd of specialists, “then you will accept that she can’t push!”

Jonathon was born moments later. But I remember December 13 as the day Daniel stood up for me and stood by me when I could do nothing for myself.

5. Allow for More than One Right.

When our Fontana house was being built, Daniel and I got into an argument over the spelling of our street name.

He knew it was Toulumne while I insisted it was Toulumme. I had practiced the spelling aloud hundreds of times, specifically so I would not get it wrong.

We finally drove to the development, simultaneously shouted, “See!?!” in triumph...while pointing at different signs. Daniel became even more upset, because two different signs with two different spellings should not exist. I, on the other hand, was vastly relieved that I was not wrong.

Instead of going toe-to-toe with a Choleric, consider that she may be looking at a different street sign, spelled a slightly different way.

Allowing for more than one right allows for two winners and no loser.

4. Laud Their Lists.

A listless Choleric is a contradiction in terms. Show me a Choleric, and in her purse, on her refrigerator, in her notebook, or on the back of an envelope she will have a list.

I like knowing what's expected of me, and I love knowing I've fulfilled - and preferably exceeded! - those expectations. Making and checking lists helps me make sure nothing falls through the cracks.

Protect your Choleric from ignoramuses who think calling someone "anal-retentive" demonstrates comedic talent. Such a label misses the point entirely.

I don't keep lists because I'm hypervigilant about details. I make lists because of the adrenalin rush I get each time I put a "check" next to a completed task!

(And, of course, when I do a task that's not on the list...I write it in so that I can check that one off, too!)

3. Be a Sounding Board.

With several projects going on simultaneously, a Choleric will often get bogged down but not readily recognize why.

Many Cholerics are auditory processors; they don’t need to see a flow chart, but they do need to hear their own train of thought as they explain it to someone else.

When Daniel says, "So, tell me about everything you've got going," he demonstrates powerful, selflessness generosity.

And within minutes, I'm saying things like, “So that's what I should do next!” and “I knew there was a hang-up I wasn’t seeing; that's it!”

Your listening facilitates your Choleric's self-discovery of clear thoughts and next steps.

2. Detailed “Thank You.”

Many people find a Choleric so intimidating that they make the excuse, "Oh, he already knows what a great job he did; he certainly doesn't need to hear it from me!"

Oh yes, he does. More than you can imagine. He doesn't actually need to hear about the "great job" he did; he needs to hear about how his efforts impacted you, specifically.

I keep thank-you notes from former students in my wallet. All I have to do is open one up and read the words, "I'm writing to say 'thank you' for..." and I am re-energized. Not because the student "liked" me but because they reminded me that I do make a difference.

Jot down few sentences detailing the difference a Choleric's influence has made in your life. Deliver it via e-mail, USPS, or face-to-face over a mocha at Starbucks.

(For everything else, there's Master Card.)

1. Assume Positive Intent.

Annemarie read through this list as I was brainstorming and gave a hearty "Amen!" to this final gift, saying:

"I'm really not a horribly witchy person. I mean for things to go well and have no idea how they go so terribly wrong.

I'll be all proud of what I've done and then find out that everyone else is ticked off and hurt. Then it's all terrible, just terrible, and I don't even know why."

Poor child, she comes by it honestly! I frequently become so task focused that I simply don't see the wake of dead bodies behind me.

When your Choleric has "bull-in-the-China-shop" moments (or days), trust that the original plan only involved action, not collateral damage.

* * * * *

For non-Choleric personalities, none of these may feel gift-worthy. Who cares about recognition or lists or time-savers? Your Choleric, that's who! These gifts send the subtle message,

"I understand that control, responsibility, achievement, appreciation, and loyalty are vital to you. Rather than ignoring these needs and hoping they go away, I'm choosing to find ways to meet them because I love you. You're important to me, so what's important to you becomes important to me."

This kind of understanding in action is a validating gift for a Choleric!

* * * * *

Part 1: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Melancholy

Part 2: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Phlegmatic

Part 4: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Sanguine

"NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 3)

CAPSO 2011 Session E29: "NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 3)

Presenters:
Daniel Gregory & Cheri Gregory

Session Description:
Technology takes teaching to a whole new level.

Curious about how other teachers are using technology? We’ll demonstrate how we use numerous technology tools and a plethora of programs, websites, and services in our Math/Religion, and English classrooms.

Interested in offering multiple-intelligence / brain-based learning / differentiated instruction options for your students? We’ll explore the steps we go through to develop a variety of technology-based “project” options that allow students to work in their areas of personal strengths/interests while also meeting rigorous curricular requirements.

Toying with implementing a class blog, discussion forum, or content management system? We’ll look at advantages to and methods for adding asynchronous learning components to traditional face-to-face classes. And we’ll discuss the vital role teachers now play in helping students practice proper online etiquette and responsible virtual citizenship.

And we’ll acknowledge the dark side to technolgy as we consider the very real dangers of allowing technology to take us “too close to the sun.”

* * * * *

Part 3: Ning

"NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 2)

CAPSO 2011 Session E29: "NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 2)

Presenters:
Daniel Gregory & Cheri Gregory

Session Description:
Technology takes teaching to a whole new level.

Curious about how other teachers are using technology? We’ll demonstrate how we use numerous technology tools and a plethora of programs, websites, and services in our Math/Religion, and English classrooms.

Interested in offering multiple-intelligence / brain-based learning / differentiated instruction options for your students? We’ll explore the steps we go through to develop a variety of technology-based “project” options that allow students to work in their areas of personal strengths/interests while also meeting rigorous curricular requirements.

Toying with implementing a class blog, discussion forum, or content management system? We’ll look at advantages to and methods for adding asynchronous learning components to traditional face-to-face classes. And we’ll discuss the vital role teachers now play in helping students practice proper online etiquette and responsible virtual citizenship.

And we’ll acknowledge the dark side to technolgy as we consider the very real dangers of allowing technology to take us “too close to the sun.”

* * * * *

Part 2: iClicker

"NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 1)

CAPSO 2011 Session E29: "NoodleTools, Blogger, YouTube, and Nings: How is Technology Giving Us Wings?" (Part 1)

Presenters:
Daniel Gregory & Cheri Gregory

Session Description:
Technology takes teaching to a whole new level.

Curious about how other teachers are using technology? We’ll demonstrate how we use numerous technology tools and a plethora of programs, websites, and services in our Math/Religion, and English classrooms.

Interested in offering multiple-intelligence / brain-based learning / differentiated instruction options for your students? We’ll explore the steps we go through to develop a variety of technology-based “project” options that allow students to work in their areas of personal strengths/interests while also meeting rigorous curricular requirements.

Toying with implementing a class blog, discussion forum, or content management system? We’ll look at advantages to and methods for adding asynchronous learning components to traditional face-to-face classes. And we’ll discuss the vital role teachers now play in helping students practice proper online etiquette and responsible virtual citizenship.

And we’ll acknowledge the dark side to technolgy as we consider the very real dangers of allowing technology to take us “too close to the sun.”

* * * * *

Part 1: NoodleTools

Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Phlegmatic

Black Friday is almost upon us.

On this day, many normally sane humans will forfeit sleep, join frenzied crowds, and fork over funds for stuff nobody needs. Then they'll brag about what great deals they got and how much they "saved."

Gift-giving shouldn't be frenetic; it should be fun!

In last week's Top Ten {Tuesday} blog, I shared gift ideas custom-tailored for the Melancholy Personalities on your shopping list.

This week, I'm focusing on our Phlegmatic (the "Peaceful Personality") loved ones because many of these gifts may require some changes in plans (unless you, too, are a Phlegmatic, in which case your holidays are probably pretty low-key to begin with!)

Keeping in mind that your Phlegmatic's primary goal in life is peace, and that her primary emotional needs are self-worth, respect, lack of stress, and comfort, a real gift from your heart could be...

10. Together Time.

Just “hang out.”

No plan. No agenda. No expectations.

Phlegmatics love “doing nothing” with friends and family for extended periods of time.

For non-Phlegmatics, “doing nothing” is an oxymoron: if you’re doing nothing, you’re not actually doing!

Embrace the paradox.

“Doing nothing” with a phlegmatic is a gift that gives back to the giver. You’ll receive the gift of learning to be a human being -- even for a little while! -- instead of such a human doing.

9. Spotlight Strengths.

Because the Phlegmatic is the most balanced Personality, she is often overlooked.

The Down-to-the-Last-Detail Melancholy outdoes Martha Stewart with holiday home decor. The I-Won't-Play-if-I-Can't-Win Choleric receives year-end awards for outstanding work achievement. The Life-of-the-Party Sanguine keeps everyone howling with laughter at the New Year's Eve bash.

And what is the Phlegmatic's claim-to-fame? Exactly what does the Phlegmatic do best?

Um...er...well...

Why is it so hard to come up with a quick answer?

Because it's the wrong question. The Phlegmatic's greatest contribution to his relationships is not what he does; it's who he is.

In a world which sings praises only for measurable accomplishments, your Phlegmatic needs you to reflect back to her the invaluable qualities you see in her and the inestimable contribution she makes to your life.

Give your Phlegmatic her red carpet moment. A few words from you will mean more than any public ceremony. After all, the only audience she cares about is you.

8. Accept Answers.

For years, I just knew Daniel was holding out on me. I’d ask, “So, where do you want to go to dinner?” and he’d respond, “Whatever you want” or “I don’t care.” For the next hour, I’d badger him relentlessly, trying to pry out of him what he really wanted.

Since Phelgmatics possess a will of iron, I never successfully cracked his encripted communication. We’d end up at dinner with me silently fuming because I just knew he hated my choice but still refused to tell me what he really wanted.

Turns out, what he really wanted was for me to quit trying to decode non-existent secret meanings and take him at his word. He really did. not. care.

So, when you ask, “Where do you want to go for dinner?” and your Phlegmatic says, “I don’t care,” you can happily say, “Okay, then let’s go to Panera Bread!” Enjoy your soup and bagel...and trust that he’s enjoying his!

7. Clear the Calendar.

The holiday season brings myriad options for places to go, things to do, and people to see.

Christmas concerts; Scrooge plays; Santa Claus Lane. Classic movies to watch; cookies to bake; gifts to wrap. Friends; family; work associates. None are likely bad choices -- most are actually good or even excellent!

But for a Phlegmatic, the best place to go is nowhere. The best thing to do is nothing. And the best people are beloved family members and friends who come to the house to visit.

Crammed calendar = a distressed Phlegmatic.

Cleared calendar = a de-stressed Phlegmatic.

6. Favorite Foods.

My mother’s holiday menu always honors my father’s Armenian heritage: tebulah, rice pilaf, cheese barek, and falafel.

My husband’s family has mid-western roots, so for the last two decades, every time Daniel and I have spent a holiday at my parents’ home, I’ve brought along mashed potatoes and stuffing.

And every time, my mother has masked her horror by asking, “Are you sure that’s necessary? We already have so much food!”

Even though Daniel is the only one who eats the mashed potatoes and stuffing, I respond every time, “Yes, they’re absolutely necessary!” For my phlegmatic husband, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving (or Christmas or Easter) without them.

Phlegmatics so rarely express needs, let alone wants. When they let you know what they like, follow through...even when it doesn’t fit the menu.

5. Commitment to Calm.

For many Phlegmatics, the emotional ups-and-downs of the holiday season feel like being in a small boat -- with no oars, no sail, no motor -- on choppy seas.

I'd come home from shopping, excited about finding a special gift, but mad about rude treatment from a cashier. After school, I'd gush over a gift from a student, but complain about the petty arguments about what we should and shouldn't do for our class Christmas party. Getting off the phone with family members, I'd anticipate our upcoming holiday feast, but fret about someone's unrealistic expectations.

It took me years to realize that my responses to typical holiday situations made my Phlegmatic husband downright nauseated. (And it took many more years to learn how to "just let it go!")

"Let there be peace on earth" is every Phlegmatic's Christmas song and plea. I give a gift of infinite value when I "let it begin with me!"

4. Esthetic Expression.

In my twenty years of teaching, I've noticed that my Phlegmatic students are often drawn to musical, artistic, and/or kinesthetic involvement.

When I was a teenager, my Phlegmatic grandmother loved nothing more than for me to play "Oh Holy Night" on the piano while she sang along in German. Tears would twinkle in her eyes when we were through, and after she went home, I always found a dollar bill on the piano keyboard.

Although my singing makes angels weep, I still pull out my Christmas music this time of year. Daniel brings down his guitar (or ganjo or mandolin or harmonica or...!) and we sing to his heart's delight.

Your Phlegmatic might appreciate your participation in an arts or crafts project: making new holiday decor or building a Christmas display. A walk or workout together; slow dancing under the mistletoe.

(A word of caution: Dabble. This isn't the time to "dive all the way in." Avoid activities that involve terms like "competition," "renovation," or "marathon" -- see #7.)

3. Champion Choices.

Over a year ago, my Phlegmatic son, Jonathon, wracked up almost 30 hours of flight time when he helped fly a small aircraft from Milwaukee to Monterey.

He had a wonderful experience and determined to earn his pilot's license before his driver's license.

As of today, he has neither.

Jonathon completed private pilot ground school in June. During the summer, he had lots of free time --and plenty of money -- to pay an instructor and rent a plane. He did neither.

Every now and then, I checked in with him, knowing how much more expensive it would be if he waited until college.

But wait, he did. So bite my tongue, I did. And still do.

Yes, it's tempting to drop hints: "Wouldn't it be great if..." To offer to help: "How about if I..." And to outright question his judgment: "Don't you realize..."

But even though I disagree with my son's choices, I choose to respect him. By not meddling. By not questioning. By getting out of the way. By letting him make -- and live with -- his own choices.

2. Decelerate & Desist.

This gift can overlap with #10, 7, and 5. But it's so specific -- and so vital -- that it deserves a number all its own.

Ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life during these holy-days.

Saunter, especially when you're with that special Phlegmatic in your life. Stop and smell the pine needles together.

Slow down. Stop.

Meander through the mall. Pause for a cup of hot chocolate together.

Slow down. Stop.

Give yourself plenty of time to prepare the big meal. Linger over the table to enjoy every morsel of nourishment and conversation.

Slow down. Stop.

1. Easy-going Environment.

When I saw Daniel bee-line toward a hideous old chair at a rummage sale years ago, I knew I should have left him at home. My protests were futile; he loved the chair, and he was going to have the chair.

Over the next twenty years, he lounged in that behemoth daily. When it deteriorated beyond use, he mourned as if he'd lost a dear friend.

In a way, he had. He'd lost his "soft place to fall" at the end of each hard day. Realizing the importance of the comfort chair, I suggested a shopping trip, and we returned home with a new favorite chair.

You don't have to buy a new chair. Find what equals comfort and comfortability for your Phlegmatic.

Ideas: Comforters. Quilts. Blankets. Over-stuffed pillows. Bean-bag chairs. Fuzzy throw rugs. Cushiony couches. Sweatshirts. Oversized T-shirts. Elastic waistband pants. Leggings. Slippers. Moccasins. The World's Softest Socks.

Make them available and encourage their use. When you show a Phlegmatic that you understand their need for comfort, you signal that when needed, you'll be a safe "soft place to fall", too.

* * * * *

For us non-Phlegmatic personalities, none of these may feel gift-worthy. Who cares about calm or clear calendars or comfort? Your Phlegmatic, that's who! These gifts send the subtle message,

"I understand that peace, self-worth, respect, lack of stress, and comfort are vital to you. Rather than ignoring these needs and hoping they go away, I'm choosing to find ways to meet them because I love you. You're important to me, so what's important to you becomes important to me."

This kind of acceptance in action is a affirming gift for a Phlegmatic!

* * * * *

Part 1: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Melancholy

Part 3: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Choleric

Part 4: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Sanguine

{Five Minute Friday: Grow} A Defining Moment vs. Defining a Moment

Months of mulling came together this morning for {Five Minute Friday}.

* * * * *

A defining moment: an event that controls all future events

I was always a best friend kinda girl. But I couldn't seem to hang onto them for very long.

In 3rd grade, Kimmi's parents divorced, and she moved to Washington.

In 5th grade, Marcia moved to Michigan. She promised to write; she didn't.

In 8th grade, Susy decided she hated me. One day, we were BFFs; the next, I was her sworn enemy. She destroyed everything we'd drawn and written together. She refused to talk to me, to tell me what I'd done. She wouldn't listen to me or hear my apologies. She was done with me.

A mutual friend asked Susy, "Don't you feel bad losing Cheri as a friend?"

"I'm not losing anything. I'm throwing it away, because that's what you do with trash," she responded.

That moment defined me, especially in my relationships with women. I expected to be left. Rejected. Discarded.

In Same Life, New Story, Jan Silvious says that "writing a new story often requires a clear-eyed inspection of what we believe and why." She points out that many of us make "a lifetime belief from one childhood experience" and allow others' words "to become prophetic, destructive powers" that control our lives.

Sure enough, three decades of adulthood produced a growing collection of BFFs: Badly Failed Friendships.

During sacred silence at a women's retreat a few months ago, as I was listening to Natalie Grant's "The Real Me" and prayer journaling, an image came to me:

sitting in a trash-filled dump, a battered chest full of priceless treasure.

Then, a Holy Spirit "ah-HA": Throwing away treasure doesn't turn it into trash.

On the outside, the chest may look like it belongs in the landfill. But neither the tarnished exterior nor the heaps of debris surrounding it can decrease the value of its contents.

I thought back -- this time with empathy instead of fear -- to the teenage girl whose words I'd given so much power for too many years.

Yes, she said some hurtful words about me. Once. I'm the one who's been re-telling this story, keeping myself "down in the dumps" for so long.

It's time to get outta the landfill and break open the lock.

The One who holds the key is a true "BFF."

And He treasures the "real me."

Defining a moment: revisiting an old event, putting the old story in perspective, and growing beyond the past

A Gift of Grace: a Daughter's Thanks

I originally published this post a couple of years ago, but it was on my mind earlier this week.

Since Bonnie's blogging about Writing Letters of Gratitude today, this feels like a good fit for Faith Barista Jam Thursday!



It's also Thankful Thursday, hosted by Laurie at Women Taking a Stand!


And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28

I've clung to this promise during the dark, "valley" seasons of my life, desperately believing that even the most abysmal circumstances would someday reveal God's glorious power to redeem.

If you've heard my talk "Healthy Marriages Major in History, Not Math," you know that for many years, I harbored attitudes of apathy, anger, and contempt toward my husband. While I know that God has given me a new heart, I've had lingering worries about the impact of my old attitudes and actions on our children. Did I scar them for life?

On September 11, 2008, when Daniel and I walked in the front door after a lovely dinner out with another couple, we were met by a surprise. The living room was completely cleaned and straightened, the carpet freshly vacuumed. Soft music played on the stereo.

On the kitchen table, a vase of freshly-picked white roses stood next to a framed photo from our wedding. In front of them lay a bar of Dove chocolate, a bag of Milano cookies, and a letter from our 17-year-old daughter, Annemarie.

Tears filled our eyes as we realized she had devoted some of her precious senior year time doing something special for us. The tears flowed freely as we read her letter:

My Dear Parents--

September 11, 2008. Today's your 20th wedding anniversary. In case I haven't already, I congratulate you! That's a pretty long time to put up with -- or get along with -- each other. And aside from congratulations, I thank you for that.

The traditional 20th anniversary gift is platinum or china. As I can't afford platinum, I hope the Milanos and Dove will do. (They're bound to be tastier, I'm sure.) And as for the china? Well, I read the description:

"It symbolizes the beautiful, elegant, and delicate nature of your love for one another over the past 20 years . . . "

. . . and promptly laughed out loud, as you may have. The last 20 years have been anything but beautiful and delicate. And elegance? Have you SPENT a dinner hour around our table?

I'm sure you both have your own memories of your first few married years -- and that they were far from the hazy, marital bliss pictures we so often paint in our heads and hearts. Occasions like that first Thanksgiving dinner, the ill-fated lemon meringue pie, and those 43.5 hours might make you groan or chuckle, but they're still yours.

And then you made the third best decision you could have ever made -- giving me life! I'm thankful for that as well. The second best decision? My baby brother, of course. Thank you for the life you've given both of us. We enjoy sharing it, even if we do aggravate each other occasionally. He's my very best friend, and I'm so blessed to have him in our lives.

But I will admit the early years I can remember -- when Jonathon and I were growing up almost constantly behind closed doors or tearstained fingers -- were horrible. You two used to fight, and your angry raised voices would carry upstairs. Pots and pans banged. Mom would start crying -- it was awful. Jonathon and I would sneak out of our rooms and sit huddled together in the hall.

I don't say this to cause you pain or to bring shame to your faces. I say this to THANK YOU. Without the rough road of the first years, you'd have nothing to have come through. It's also given Jonathon and me such an example -- that no matter what, your duty is to God and each other. That whatever argument isn't as important as the honor you give God and each other. That love and respect come above all else, that marriage is something worth fighting for, not about.

Believe me, now I believe you two are so in love it's sickening. You're like a pair of teenagers, kissing and cuddling in the hall. It's halfway between romantic and revolting, but I assure you, the impression it's left on Jonathon and me will never fade away. (We are scarred for life!) We've realized that you must care about and care for each other -- to put God and your partner first, no matter how hard that may be. Again, I thank you for the strong example you've left us.

Daddy, you've taught me never to settle for someone who treats me less than I deserve. Your overpowering love and protection for Mum shows me that a man is someone who will love me for who I am, respect me for what I am, and treat me as more than I am. You protection and open affection for me has also helped me be more self-assured and secure in the knowledge that you will always be there. And the love that just pours through you for Jonathon and me has helped me know God. To have an earthly father who loves me so much he'll get me Jamba Juice, buy me jogging shoes, threaten any boy who looks at me, sit through my math rants with me -- teaches me that my Heavenly Father must love and adore me even more! You're the best father -- and the best husband -- ever.

Mum, you've taught me that to be myself is the best I can be. Your overflowing love and affection for Daddy has helped me see that even when I feel out of control, even when I know I'm right, I can respect another person's views and feelings. That my first duty is to God -- He alone has my heart. You've shown me to prayerfully consider relationships, to seek my self-worth in God because I am His adored daughter. I know I am also and forever your adored daughter. The trips I've taken to speak with you, to go to Jamba Juice, or pick out fresh fruit have meant more to me than traveling anywhere abroad. And your nurturing nature has helped Jonathon and I become who we are. I see God just shining through you in your patience even when you're tired, your willingness to cook when we're sick or snappy, and your insight and interest in our lives. You're the best mom -- and the best wife -- ever.

God bless both of you, the most amazing couple on earth. The memories, good are bad, are yours to laugh over and learn from. The kids, good or bad, are only around for a little longer. Then you're allowed to smooch in the kitchen without the gagging sounds or shouts of "PDA!" But "those kids" are eternally grateful for the strong, fighting, loving, and respectful example that you've emblazoned on our hearts.

To the best parents in the whole wide world, happy anniversary.

All my love,


Annemarie


I share this letter not as a trite sigh of relief, that somehow negative consequences were avoided. I share it in grateful celebration that God uses our worst failures to demonstrate his restorative power.

What a gift of grace!

Adventures of Anxiety Girl: Growing Up After Saying "I Do" (Part 2)

It's Wifey Wednesday over at To Love Honor and Vacuum!

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In Part 1, I discussed how my own emotional immaturity wreaked havoc in the early years of my marriage.

One vital resource for moving my thoughts, feelings, and reactions onto the path toward maturity has been the book and DVD series Love and Respect.

I was so fixated on my own frantic wants and needs for so long, I didn't have a clue about respect. I didn't know how to show it. And I definitely didn't know how vital it was for Daniel. I was too focused on me.

When we sat down to watch the videos, we recognized the "Crazy Cycle" immediately:

Anxiety Girl threw a fit, of course, at the mere idea that I should focus on anyone's needs other than hers. She did her best to fill me with fears and extreme scenarios about what would happen if I started treating Daniel with respect.

"He'll never ask for your opinion!" she insisted. "He'll make decisions without you! He'll make plans that don't accommodate you! You'll be miserable!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. At that point in our relationship, Daniel already didn't want my opinion; it came with too many barbs. He regularly made decisions and plans without me; it was pretty much the only way he could get anything done without me meddling and sabotaging! As for misery, I'd bottomed out. I was desperate for change.

I realized that what I'd been demanding from Daniel was not just unrealistic, it was unreasonable. The unconditional "love" I insisted he show me was not the mature love of equals; it was the coddling of a spoiled child.

I expected him to make me feel good all the time, to "fix" my brokenness, to tip-toe around my myriad sensitive spots.

I wanted Daniel to cope with Anxiety Girl for me.

But taming Anxiety Girl was a task I had to do myself, for myself. I realized that in order for me to "grow up" in our marriage, I had to quit letting Anxiety Girl run my life. I had to learn to think, feel, and act in terms of love and respect.



Sometimes, I become consumed with regrets about how badly I botched the first decade (or two!) of our marriage. The "If only..."s start spiraling out of control. Then I recognize Anxiety Girl, not-so-slyly trying to stage a coup and regain control of my life, once again.

Sorry, Anxiety Girl. I'm not interested in haranguing Daniel or myself any more. In fact, I keep this reminder above my computer:

Sure, I wish I'd learned about love and respect much earlier in my marriage.

But when it comes to "growing up" in marriage, I'm grateful to be learning late rather than never!

Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Melancholy

The gift-giving season is almost upon us. For many, what should be a celebration of relationships mutates into stress over getting "just the right gift" for each friend and family member. Gift certificates end up being an easy out when we can't find anything that really seems to fit.

Gift-giving shouldn't be frustrating; it should be fun! So, for my next four Top Ten {Tuesday} blogs, I'll be sharing gift ideas custom-tailored for the Personalities of those on your shopping list!

I'll start with our Melancholy (the "Perfect Personality") loved ones because you may need a week or two of careful listening and observation (unless you, too, are a Melancholy in which case you've been hearing and seeing all along!)

Keeping in mind that your Melancholy's primary goal in life is to achieve perfection, and that her primary emotional needs are order, sensitivity, support, space, and silence, a real gift from your heart could be...

10. organization of an area of disorder

Sometimes, this has been as simple as putting my shoes away "where they belong" instead of leaving them out.

(Other times, it's been as daunting as dealing with the garage, but we're not going there today!)

And when "where they belong" hasn't been well-established, I've researched solutions until we found one that works for both of us.

9. willingness to hear what they're really saying.

For years, my husband griped, "All I want is a clean knife, but noooo, they're all in the dishwasher! Why does everyone use so many knives? It's ridiculous. If you'd all just rinse it off after you use it..."

All I heard was the complaining.

Recently, I decided to screen out anything that evoked an emotional response in me; lo and behold, I heard him really saying "I want a clean knife." I quickly bought a set of 4 new knives, which he chose to let us use (he prefers his "old faithfuls!) No complaints since!

8. your presence at important events.

Daniel's gospel quartet practiced every Monday night for three house in our home, 50 weeks a year for seven years.

I'd heard every song they sang, multiple times...often the same short phrase over and over and over -- "There's power in the...There's power in the...There's power in the..." -- until I all but begged for "blood! Just give me blood!"

So I initially thought performances would be no big deal; I could just stay home with the kids rather than dragging them out to hear what we'd already heard.

Wrong. When I didn't show up, Daniel was crushed. Conversely, when I spent a wedding anniversary tending the group's table at Redlands Market Night, I earned big points with my man!

7. a room of his/her own.

When we first moved into a four-bedroom house, I took over the spare bedroom and crammed it full of my sewing and crafting supplies (which I visited now and then.)

One day, while at my brother and sister-in-law's home, I found Daniel sitting on the floor reading in Karen's lovely office. He looked up and said, in a voice of longing, "She has a room of her own!"

It took me two hours, after we got home that night, to shift all my stuff from storage in my "craft room" to storage in the garage, freeing the space for Daniel's office / studio / cave (complete with a door that opens, shuts, and -- when necessary! -- locks.)

6. protection of quiet time.

When a Melancholy in the house decides it's nap time, I crate the dog (so she won't bark at stray air molecules!), un-plug the phones (and remove the batteries!), and tape a "do not disturb" sign on the door.

And then I remove myself so they're free to enjoy complete silence.

5. an advance plan.

For both Melancholy males in my house, "spontaneity" means anything less than three weeks' notice. Their favorite surprise is no surprise.

My most notorious failure to give this gift was the night I called home to tell Jonathon, "We're not there."

"I noticed," he said gloomily. "I've been noticing for the last several hours. It got dark, but nobody told me anything or left me any notes or even called."

He wasn't afraid to be home alone -- he was 16 at the time -- but he was bummed that nobody had bothered to clue him in on their plans.

4. attention to what matters.

Almost ten years ago, I was wracking my brain to think of a meaningful gift for my mother. I tried to recall anything she'd ever mentioned needing or wanting, but for weeks I drew a blank.

Finally, a light bulb moment! Any time she talked about her five years as a sixth grade teacher, she spoke fondly and longingly about the reading book she'd used: Engine Whistles. Thanks to eBay, I hit the jackpot that year.

She held the book reverentially, stroking it in wonder, asking over and over, "How did you get this?"

What other meaningful gifts I could have given her throughout the years, if I'd only listened more and made note of what mattered to her?

3. unobtrusive companionship during/after a difficulty.

When things go wrong, a Melancholy is reminded that she has, once again, failed to achieve perfection. She may take this failure to heart and become very discouraged for a while.

Trying to "cheer up" a discouraged Melancholy is like trying to nail Jell-O to the wall: lots of effort with no results. You'll end up frustrated that your attempts aren't appreciated, and your cheer-ee will become further discouraged because nobody understands the gravity of the situation.

While it's tempting to just leave her alone (and if you ask, you may even find out that's what she needs at the moment), staying alongside her without trying to "fix" her is often the most healing thing you can do.

2. respect for solitude.

When we were first married, Daniel used to take off for a walk, a trip to a bookstore, even a backpacking trip without inviting me.

It took me years to understand that his need for solitude was not a reflection of his commitment to me or his enjoyment of my company. As an introvert, he needs time alone, away from anyone who knows or needs him.

Now, I actively protect my husband's solitude by call screening, running interference when someone shows up unannounced on our doorstep, and even holding his cell phone for a few hours when I can tell that he's "peopled out."

1. a good old fashioned shuttin' up.

I used to regale Daniel with the novel-length version of my day, every day. I ignored the glazed-over look in his eyes, determined that we were going to build a more intimate relationship via sheer volume of words.

In time, I shortened my end-of-day commentary to the blog-post version. Suddenly, I no longer had to chase him around the house to get his attention. He started voluntarily asking me, "So, how was your day?"

In the last couple of years, I've edited myself down to Facebook status update length. Amazingly enough, Daniel now asks insightful questions, wanting to hear more. He recently startled me by asking, "And how did you feel about that?"

But my greatest successes have been Twitter-sized comments, the carefully thought-out one-liners. This school year, Daniel has stopped what he was doing, looked at me in wonder, and said, "That was profound!" more than a dozen times.

Clearly, less really can be so much more!

* * * * *

For us non-Melancholy personalities, none of these may feel gift-worthy. Who cares about shoes or rooms or quiet? Your Melancholy, that's who! These gifts send the subtle message,

"I understand that order, sensitivity, support, space, and silence are vital to you. Rather than ignoring these needs and hoping they go away, I'm choosing to find ways to meet them because I love you. You're important to me, so what's important to you becomes important to me."

This kind of compassion in action is the ideal gift for a Melancholy!

* * * * *

Part 2: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Phlegmatic

Part 3: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Choleric

Part 4: Top Ten {Tuesday} Priceless Gifts that Don't Cost a Dime -- for a Sanguine

No Rescue Needed: Necessary Pain and Disappointment

(Check out To Love Honor and Vacuum, where Sheila Wray Gregoire has an excellent post titled "Trusting God When You're a Natural Fixer" on the same theme as this one!)

* * * * *

“But, Mom, this means I can’t go! It’s impossible!” wails Annemarie, tears coursing down her cheeks.

Five minutes ago, she was all smiles as we sat at the kitchen table to “crunch numbers” for the school-sponsored 10-day trip to Italy. As we calculated the number of hours she’d have to work to earn enough money to pay for the trip, though, her face fell, her eyes reddened, and she reached for the Kleenex.

Pain and disappointment can be effective teachers, I remind myself.

Don’t cave. No matter how badly you want to bail her out–for your sake as well as hers!–don’t rescue her. These are natural consequences; this kind of pain and disappointment is the okay kind.

“Chickie,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and upbeat, “it is possible for you to earn the money. You’ll have to commit to working eight hours a day for all eight weeks of your summer break.”

“But I don’t want to!” she sobs back, throwing up her hands in despair. “I’ve been looking forward to having this summer off! It’s been such a crazy school year; I deserve a break! I’ve worked so hard. I want time for myself!”

How I hate seeing her tears!

I start to rationalize: She’s right; it has been a rough school year. I could offer to go half-way on the trip with her. That way she’d only have to work half as much. Surely that would make her feel better. I don’t want to see her hopes crushed. The Italy trip is such a great opportunity for her . . .

Pain and disappointment can be effective teachers.

What vital lessons will I deprive her of learning if I step in to ease the current pain and disappointment? This is a great opportunity to learn how badly she actually wants the trip or if she’s just been enjoying the fantasy.

*****

Ten years ago, when I first heard a parenting expert declare that “pain and disappointment can be effective teachers,” my first reaction was deep rebellion:

No! I’ve spent my entire parenting life trying to protect my kids from pain and disappointment!

My own childhood included a number of instances of totally inappropriate pain and disappointment–emotional abandonment, verbal battering, physical neglect, and sexual violation–that caused me to define all pain and disappointment as harmful.

I had to realize that in my zeal to protect my children from the inappropriate kinds of pain and disappointment I’d experienced as a child, I had aimed to protect them from all pain and disappointment. As a result, I was raising kids who were accustomed to being rescued, even from the normal process of natural consequences. Learning to tell myself this kind of pain and disappointment is the okay kind has been a difficult but vital part of my growth as a parent.

As I’ve learned to “trust the process,” Psalm 62:8 has taken on new meaning: “Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.”

*****

I steal myself and quietly state, “Honey, it looks like you’ve got two very different choices in front of you–a forced alternative. You can either work all summer and go on the Italy trip in October or you can take the summer off and not go on the trip. I don’t know which choice is right for you; only you can decide that. I’ll support you either way.”

“But . . . but . . . “ she cries, her volume notching up to a whole new level, “it’s not fair! You said I could go! I’ve told everyone I’m going! It’s not fair!”



Ouch! I wince. The you’re-letting-me-down and it’s-not-fair defenses; both at once. I want out of this conversation. It’s more intense than I want to deal with. What’s the fastest way out? If we call Nana and Papa, they’d probably be willing to help . . .

Pain and disappointment can be effective teachers.

What will she learn if a bit of dramatics is all it takes to “earn” a trip to Italy? What are you modeling for her if you cop out so quickly? Don’t rescue her. This kind of pain and disappointment is the okay kind.

I look my daughter squarely in the eye and say, as kindly but firmly as possible, “Unfair? It would be ‘unfair’ if we’d misled you. But when we said you could go, we also said ‘as long as you earn the money for the trip.’ The numbers you’ve just calculated aren’t unfair . . . just really, really, really disappointing.”

Nodding dumbly, Annemarie buries her face in her arms. Still fighting the Let-me-make-it-all-better urge, I lean over to hug her. She stiffens–still mad–then relaxes, glad for comfort.

Trust in Him at all times, daughters. Together, we are learning that some kinds of pain and disappointment are effective teachers. Pour out our hearts to Him, for He is our refuge. We are learning to trust and find refuge in God.

Together.


How do you find yourself responding to the idea that “pain and disappointment can be effective teachers”?

What life lesson are you learning together with your child(ren)?

When do your children see you trusting and taking refuge in God?

In what ways has your parenting journey been a catalyst for spiritual growth?