Hi, my name is Amy and I’m a compulsive explainer.

Blogging may not be the best hobby for one with my affliction. Heigh-ho.

It’s funny, too, because I’ve given the advice to not apologize just to placate– to keep the peace at all costs– because if you’re in a continuing relationship with an individual that demands that you’re pasting a kick-me sign on your own back.

I never realized that “explaining” does a similar thing with some people.

The writer’s-group abbreviation RUE (resist the urge to explain) is something I need to train myself to apply.

~

I’ve known for a while I’m a compulsive explainer– in Sunday school I’ve mentioned it twice, mostly as a way to explain my need to explain– but I never really thought about doing things differently until I was walking with a friend shortly after getting my new dog.

“I thought at first I didn’t want a pit because I didn’t want one more thing in my life to explain– homemaking, no preschool, teaching natural birth control, storytelling as both necessary and a true art. All have become things I have to explain, and now I throw a pit bull into the mix.”

“Why explain?” my friend asked. “Just be confident you’re doing the best for your family and let it go at that. People can understand or not.”

But they *have* to understand! I wanted to say.

But, they don’t.

Will it really change anything? Why hang your peace on what everyone thinks? We already know we can’t make everyone happy.

I don’t know how long this audio podcast will still be available on-line, so click over when you can and listen while you do housework or something. It’s called Dealing with the Crazy Makers in Your Life, and is a conversation based on a book with the same title.

The show opens with he author describing several different kinds of “crazy makers,” those people who take their problems into every relationship–it really is them, not you. Things like the aggressive personality, the martyr, the Egotist (“One nice thing about Egotists– they don’t talk about other people…”) and borderline personality disorder.

Then, in the second half, he talks about what hooks these problems catch other people with, and finally what to do differently (as someone trying to stay healthy).

Interesting to me, one of the more common hooks, and a most ineffective coping (or placating) strategy, is explaining.

Some of his advice might seem controversial to some (“Quit trying to understand her feelings– you won’t be able to.”) but it was very eye-opening for me.

My conclusion: I’ve found two ways (so far) “explaining” can be unhealthy. Continue reading »

I have *once* in my life wished for a greater grasp of the rules of grammar.

In college I felt thankful to have enrolled under the last possible catalog (year) that allowed me to graduate with a journalism degree without taking a full 3-credit semester of straight grammar (“History of Grammar” I could see enjoying. Three months of lecture and practice, not so much).

A lot of my peers were annoyed with me (I need to someday do a post on this being annoyed at a non-braggy people who’ve got it better than one).

Anyway, I’ve read enough (or something, I guess) that I never felt a lack in my education until I was sitting opposite a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses (JWs), “discussing scripture.”

On a side note, my mother did point out ahead of time this is rarely a good idea, but I had already-sort-of said yes when they asked to come back, and didn’t really know how to change that.

The reason discussions like this (I now agree heartily with my mother) are generally not a good idea, is that the average layperson (you and me) will not be as prepared for discussion as the average JW going from door to door.

Or, you may be about as prepared as the younger of the two, but *definitely* not the older one.

Any discussion will only affirm in the “missionaries'” minds that their position is the firmer, more reasonable one, because they are the ones who have the answer to everything.

I can’t know this for sure, but my guess is that they bring the younger JWs to these discussions to build their faith– in their elders as well as their doctrine.

Anyway, the JWs have their own translation of the Scripture that eliminates the deity of Christ (they see him as another incarnation of the angel Michael), but encourage you to look up references in your own bible.

Sitting “tailor-style” in a dining room chair, I did this, following their argument, and suggesting alternate interpretations and verses myself.

Then it happened: we got to one of those “modified” verses of theirs. I don’t remember now what it was. Their translation said something different than mine, and I said so.

It was one of those passages full of hims, hises and yous (Did I get that right, Kaye? What’s the plural for ‘his’?).

I reread aloud it from my translation and the women acted politely confused. “Isn’t that what we just read?”

“No,” I said, recognizing my my helplessness. “This ‘you’ is referring to someone else.”

“What makes you think that?”

And I realized that all my instinct from years of reading meant nothing here because I didn’t have a name for what I knew to be true.

One of the largest concerns in my mind after Natasha made her decision for Christ was how to feed her. And then, how did I know it was real?

I poked around on-line and made some calls (knowing I’ve seen a very competent “arrival kit” for adult new believers I hoped there might be something I could use with my 4-year-old). Not easily finding something, my mind went next (I’m sorry! It’s been trained!) to “Maybe that means I should write something myself…”

Then, as my mind was there, I began to wonder how I could know if Natasha knew what she was doing (after all, 4 is awfully young…). I didn’t want my clumsy efforts to guinea-pig her and cool her interest in things of the faith.

God graciously encouraged my heart, though.

• Natasha didn’t want to call and tell anyone (e.g. grandparents), which was what made me wonder in the first place, but when I was on the phone she wanted me to tell them.
• She’s had an increased appetite for the Word (tell me that isn’t inspiring), wanting the real thing.

I grabbed the picture-bible because it was near-by and I was nursing the baby, but she said, “No, Mama, I don’t want the picture one, I want mine.” “The one with just words?” “Yes.” And she went and got it.

• She’s been willing to pray “publicly” for the first time (volunteering to pray over dinner tonight)
• And she told grandma about her decision as soon as she saw her.

So I was encouraged. And I did find a couple picture books that bring up concepts I wanted her to think about (because I expect she’ll still want picture books at her age).

The break-through for my first concern came when a church secretary called me back and said none of the right people were around to ask the curriculum question of.

Then she pointed out that with her three daughters (all grown, and all raising their children in the Faith) she had just continued with the same tack as before, reading bible stories, talking about the things of faith. The difference being that after a decision for Christ those talks have more meaning for the child.

This was such a wonderfully simple truth and I had never seen it this way. It lifted my concern (that I believe most young parents have) about how to feed my baby “right” on my own.

~

In all the bible stories we’ve read since Wednesday night, I’ve been able to bring up questions about our response to God and how He interacted with the people in the stories.

As a storyteller, the idea of staying with the stories themselves is so freeing. I don’t need to find a way to introduce a “simplified” Romans or Galatians to my 4-year-old. There is plenty of time for that later. For now I can be thankful for the many truths that God has provided in the stories he gave us.

From Balaam and we’ve already filled-in some gaps I had woken concerned about the morning after. God is faithful, and will always make provision for the right thing at the right time.

In the same way that I can say, “No, we’re not reading about Judah and Tamar,” knowing it’s not age-appropriate, I can wait on many other things as well.

“Jesus loves me, this I know,” is a beginning that has confounded scholars and kept them busy long enough to let my daughter grow ready for other eternal truths.