Catholic Herald Parenting™

	Lorenz and Friends

It was as if poltergeists had invaded our home. It rained every day that week. The three older children seemed to be snapping at each other and at me for no reason. The youngest, Andrew, age 4, had decided that temper tantrums were the best way to get attention. Even my husband and I were hardly speaking. He'd been gone the past three weekends on business and now was planning a solo trip to St. Louis to visit his 93-year-old father.

I was feeling lonely without a spouse to talk to, crabby because of the squabbles among the children, and desolate because of the rain and the feeling of being chained to my typewriter and the house.

Toward the end of that depressing week, I read in the church bulletin that our parish was having a communal reconciliation service and even though I'd never been to one before, I decided to go, mostly to get out of the house more than from a great desire to do something spiritually enlightening.

When I arrived at church that evening my mood was as gloomy as the inside of the sanctuary before Fr. Marty turned on the lights. After a few prayers, he led the congregation through a communal soul-searching examination of conscience. He talked about each commandment and about the ways we might have broken God's laws.

I bowed my head and personally asked the Lord for forgiveness for the many times I'd been impatient with the children, for giving in to depression, for not trying harder to find time for my husband and me to sit down and talk.

This isn't so hard, I realized. I'll just try to ignore all the grief my family gives me. Maybe things will get better at home after all.

Then Fr. Marty gave us a double whammy. "To be truly forgiven for your sins, each time someone hurts you, snubs you, is unkind to you, acts out, or puts you down this week, give that person a compliment that same day."

Give that person a compliment? Impossible! I began to wonder if Fr. Marty had his head in the clouds. How can I compliment someone who hurts me or makes my life miserable? It'll just encourage them to continue to be awful. Why can't I just ignore the hurt and try to go on from there?

Since I was new to this communal reconciliation business, I decided I'd better follow along to the letter of the law. The next morning I left my husband a note, "Thanks for fixing the chair. You did a nice job. Want to go for a walk tonight?"

The next time Andrew threw a temper tantrum I picked him off the floor, told him I loved him and read him a story.

When my teen-age daughters started getting mouthy, I diffused them with, "You girls sure are good baby-sitters. This week I've had compliments from two people you baby-sit for who told me how good you are with their children."

When Michael stomped off to his room and slammed the door because he couldn't have his best friends over for a sleepover that weekend because we were expecting out-of-state houseguests, I tip-toed in later with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a few cookies. "I got a call from your English teacher today, Michael. She said you're really doing a great job in her class. And I also wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed your band concert. You're quite the percussionist, son."

You've probably figured out what happened next. My husband put his arm around me when he got home from work, gave me a big kiss and suggested we go out for a fish fry the following night.

When Andrew and I finished reading the storybook, he jumped off my lap and asked if he could help me set the table for supper.

Both Jeanne and Julia showed up in the kitchen to help with meal preparations. We talked, laughed and even did a few impromptu exercises together when a fast song came on the radio.

After dinner Michael offered to sort the laundry and help with the folding.

All in all I had to admit that Fr. Marty hit on something big. I like to think of it as the "fight fire with water" theory of life. When someone dumps manure in my path, I can plant some rose bushes. When someone treats me like dirt, I can treat them with utmost kindness and love. When I do, I'm amazed at what happens.

It's a very simple concept when you think about it. If I want to be loved and respected, I must first be lovable and respectable.

(Lorenz shares her art-of-living words at many professional speaking events and retreats. E-mail her at patricialorenz@juno.com.)