I have a pretty even temper. I don’t scream at my kids – I teach or scold them instead. I don’t yell at my husband – I express how I’m feeling in a calm voice (a fact which I can’t take complete credit for – it’s my husband who provides a safe place for me to do this). And there’s not a whole lot that sets me off and gets me all riled up. Except … perhaps … injustice.
On an off day, I’ve made gestures at people who are driving (not that gesture, but still …).
I swore at an ice cream seller near the Eiffel Tower because he overcharged us (I was pregnant and slightly delirious and am still embarrassed about that.) And I’ve harassed people in India who worked for a travel company that cheated us out of $800, calling them again and again and asking them how they could sleep at night, living such dishonest lives (until my husband put his foot down and told me to let if go if I wanted to keep my soul). (He was right and I did let it go).
So all in all, a peaceful gal – with a few exceptions.
The last couple of weeks a few people have been less peaceful. In fact, some people have been kinda mean. This sort of treatment either makes me feel hurt and embarrassed – or mad, and wanting to justify myself and get revenge. Or I feel everything.
In the first incident, I was driving up to a roundabout (of which there are plenty in France). True, I was coming up to it faster than I should have, and the guy who was already in the (small) roundabout was hidden by trees so that I didn’t see him until the last minute. But I did see him and I was going to stop. He still honked at me and gave me a gesture of disdain. And I trembled the rest of the way to the swimming pool.
On a different day, we had a contractor over to give us an estimate on some work we need to do to our house, and this guy was shockingly rude. Granted, my husband bore the brunt of his impudence, but I wanted to jump over the couch to where he was sitting at the dining room table and give him a piece of my mind. I am not even sure he said hello before accosting us and telling us we basically knew nothing about construction, or proper procedure, or our own house, and he was not going to waste his time with us. We were still reeling hours later.
Another time, I was trying to help my husband park in a very tight spot in Paris and I was in the cycling path without really paying attention. I was just trying to help him get in quickly so as not to annoy the long line of cars who were waiting behind him as he manoeuvred. A guy yelled at me to move, and as he and his kids passed, he yelled again, “That’s what a cycling path is for – bicycles!”
And then I was walking my dog along the Seine where I crossed paths with a jogger and her dog. “Why does your dog have that collar?” she asked me. It was the kind of training collar with spikes on it, but it was not a choking collar. She continued. “It’s really bad for his trachea.”
“No it’s not,” I responded (not wanting to be defensive or start a war – just wanting to explain). But she cut me off. “It is! It is bad for his trachea. I’m a dog trainer. I know these things.”
I began to say, “Our trainer is the official trainer for police dogs in France and we trust him,” but she cut me off again. “Well if you’re not open for discussion there’s no point in continuing.” And she stalked off.
When Hunter ran up to her dog to play, she screamed at him, “Get out of here!”
My heart was beating very fast. Because she had just walked off, I didn’t get a chance to tell her how much we loved our dog, and that we double-checked with our vet that his trachea was okay (it is 100% completely fine because we don’t discipline him hard). I would have told her that he was very dominant and had bitten my children (and neighbour), and that we needed to have a firm, but loving hand with him. The alternative would have been to give him to the SPA, which is where he would remain because frankly no one wants to adopt this kind of dog. I mean, they’re beautiful, but they are so energetic and difficult to train. Hunter would just get put to sleep. That was the discourse that was running through my mind for two days after our encounter because I didn’t get to defend my case.
There is this scripture in 2 Samuel 16 that has made a big impression on me ever since I first read it almost two decades ago.
As King David approached Bahurim, a man from the same clan as Saul’s family came out from there. His name was Shimei son of Gera, and he cursed as he came out. He pelted David and all the king’s officials with stones, though all the troops and the special guard were on David’s right and left. As he cursed, Shimei said, ‘Get out, get out, you murderer, you scoundrel! The Lord has repaid you for all the blood you shed in the household of Saul, in whose place you have reigned. The Lord has given the kingdom into the hands of your son Absalom. You have come to ruin because you are a murderer!’
Then Abishai son of Zeruiah said to the king, ‘Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over and cut off his head.’
But the king said, ‘What does this have to do with you, you sons of Zeruiah? If he is cursing because the Lord said to him, “Curse David,” who can ask, “Why do you do this?”’
David then said to Abishai and all his officials, ‘My son, my own flesh and blood, is trying to kill me. How much more, then, this Benjaminite! Leave him alone; let him curse, for the Lord has told him to. It may be that the Lord will look upon my misery and restore to me his covenant blessing instead of his curse today.’
So David and his men continued along the road while Shimei was going along the hillside opposite him, cursing as he went and throwing stones at him and showering him with dirt. The king and all the people with him arrived at their destination exhausted. And there he refreshed himself. (vs 5-14)
Just to give a little background, the first king Israel had was Saul, but he did not obey God and was removed from the throne and replaced by David. (As in – David who killed Goliath). But this didn’t happen right away. There were actually decades when David was wandering in the desert, and hiding from Saul and his troops before he came into power.
When he finally did come into power, there were still those of Saul’s family who were unhappy with the turn of events. Now David was an unbelievably humble guy and close to God’s own heart, but he was a not-so-great father because he didn’t use authority over his sons. When he was ousted out of the kingdom by his own son, Absalom, it was the perfect chance for someone like Shimei to express his disgust.
When we’re being treated poorly by others, we measure whether we – at least in part – deserved the treatment we’re receiving. Or we measure if we were treated unfairly for no reason at all. And I have to admit, it’s more comfortable to assume we were completely innocent in the matter because then we can focus on justifying our position rather than how hurt we feel.
Going back to my situations, yes – I could have approached the roundabout more slowly so that I didn’t make the guy nervous that I was going to run into him. I could have paid attention to the fact that it was a cycling path. Or with the dog, I could have been there to listen and not blurt out a direct contradiction to what she just said. I could have been more humble.
And David … yes – he should have disciplined his sons so that one wouldn’t end up raping his half-sister, and another one stealing his kingdom out from under his nose.
Even so – did I deserve to be yelled at by the driver and the cyclist? Did my dog deserve for some lady to scream at him because she was mad at me?
And David … he was KING. No one deserves to have rocks and dirt showered on them while they are in a position of humiliation? But the king? Does God’s anointed deserve that?
What just boggles my mind is his response to the treatment: If he is cursing because the Lord said to him, “Curse David,” who can ask, “Why do you do this?” and then again My son, my own flesh and blood, is trying to kill me. How much more, then, this Benjaminite! Leave him alone; let him curse, for the Lord has told him to. It may be that the Lord will look upon my misery and restore to me his covenant blessing instead of his curse today.
David was so confident in God’s love for him, he could handle whatever treatment, humiliation – meanness came his way. It takes a highly evolved person – a person confident in him or herself – to let things like nastiness slide. I am not naturally that person.
Or it takes a person who has utter faith that God is GOD and that He loves her (or him) and that he will vindicate her cause, and that – yes – he will discipline her if needed, but more reassuringly, will see her distress and repay her with good for the cursing she is receiving today. This is the kind of person who can handle insults without getting eaten up by them. This is the kind of person I want to be.
And this is what I remember when people are mean.
***
My friends, how do you handle it when people are rude to you?
Photo Credit: mandygodbehear / 123RF Banque d’images
That is a great passage you shared from Samuel. You have reaped a good lesson from it, too – one that I intend to remember. We all deserve chastisement now and then. I know I do, but it is so hard to swallow when it comes. And I am sorry for your recent encounters.
I never seem to speak when or what I wish after I am accosted with rude of unjust behavior, so then for sometimes weeks after I contemplate all the ways (and with what words!) I could have set that person straight or at least defended my position.
I like David’s response much better. It’s more confident, yet humble and faithful, as you pointed out. Thank you for sharing, Jennie.
Hillary recently posted…Real Stormy Weather
Yes, David’s way is so, so much better. I can see why God was able to use him for such great things!
Often they say to consider the kind of day/life a mean person is having, and show more patience.
I do get that.. but.. I’ve had terrible days and weeks and months and that just makes me want to be even nicer and connected to others.
I have a BAD temper. Bad. It’s not engaged very often, luckily.
Tamara recently posted…Game Day Prep.
Tamara, I’m laughing at your comment because I see myself in you – from wanting to be nice, but having that bad temper. Remember the nursery rhyme? “There was a girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was really, really good. But when she was bad, she was horrid.”
I am imperfect in my handling of rudeness. Some days I offer grace and think that the rude person must be hurting in some way, some days I am Teflon to the rudeness and let it roll off of me…and some days I engage. It’s like you described with the dog collar issue–why is it that some stranger comes at you so strongly that she will not even let you speak (and ironically accuse you of being close-minded!)…and then we are left feeling like we needed to explain and defend ourselves when we really don’t.
More often than not, though, I feel better inside when I grant the grace rather than engage. But my sense of injustice doesn’t agree.
LisaAR recently posted…Shut the Door and Teach
I think handling rudeness is a bigger weakness than I’ll admit to myself. I rarely offer grace. I’m usually thinking about how I’m going to put them in their place (which of course I never seem to be able to do). But I think it’s because I’m in a position of privilege – white, wealthy, American passport. Maybe if I had less advantages, I wouldn’t be so quick to claim “my rights.” I don’t know if that makes any sense.
Don’t be so hard on yourself. A sense of injustice hurts no matter what. And even the fact that you are questioning your response to rudeness is giving more consideration to the matter than the “rudies” are giving it!
LisaAR recently posted…Shut the Door and Teach
Hi Lisa, this reply is long overdue, but thanks for your boosting comment! 🙂
I am not the most graceful person when I encounter rudeness. My immediate response is to rip them a new one. My temper has always been my downfall, though I’ve been remarkably restrained in the past few years (I think it comes when one has children!).
I live in a country where inconsiderate people are abundant. I could choose to be like them, or be better. I choose the latter. So when they’re rude and inconsiderate, it’s on them, not me. I walk away. Seething, but I still walk way. 🙂
Alison recently posted…Dear Babies
You must have changed because having children 😉 because I always think of you as so moderate in your reactions – like a totally good diplomat. And it’s an interesting perspective – not to think about responding or not responding, but rather to think about being a better person. Then it’s on them, not on me.
I always ask them why. Why did you just do that? Do you feel better for doing that? Saying that? Is the world better because you’ve said those words? Typically they just walk away – because how can they respond to that? I hope it makes them think. I hate that you’ve come across this lately. I want a better, kinder world. xo
tracy recently posted…Kindergarten
That is such a poised, graceful response. Of course they have to walk away because what could they say? I love how gentle you are (even when mad). And I’m with you on a better, kinder world. Hopefully our children will contribute to that.
It depends on the situation. If someone is rude I wonder if I did something wrong first, usually. If rude to my husband or child, I hold a grudge. Rarely do I react directly, however. I keep it inside, let it eat at me a bit. Then I give it to God. That always helps.
You’ve taught me something with this scripture today. May we all be like David, so confident in God’s love for us.
Andrea recently posted…When All Else Fails, Apply Lipstick
Giving it to God does help, but it can take me awhile to do that. It would be better for me to hold things inside a bit instead of blowing a gasket, which I am perfectly capable of doing! Yes, David is such a role model for so many things.
I ask why. I explain, “That sounds like you’re judging my parenting” or “that sounds like you don’t think I”m able to handle the class science fair” I ask. Most times people will walk away, but sometimes, their explanation is so shocking… they really don’t think they’re rude, they think they’re right. And you can’t do anything with that… xo (xo)
alexandra recently posted…Rare Bird by Anna Whiston-Donaldson
And hopefully sometimes people say – I am so sorry. I did not mean to give that impression by asking that since I don’t feel that way at all! Hopefully sometimes the question is more innocuous than it seems.
I like Tracy’s and Alexandra’s responses, too. (And love that you turned to your faith for answers.) When someone would ask my mom a rude question–or a subtly passive aggressive judgmental one, she’d say, “What makes you ask that?” rather than answering.
Nina recently posted…Leaving and Losing Friends
Your mom sounds really smart. My first response is to answer since I don’t have an ulterior (mean) motive when I ask people questions, and I assume that others don’t either. It’s only later on that sometimes I think … wait a minute!
I try to remember that “maybe they’re having a bad day”…you never know. For myself, I know that I am not an easy person to get along with when I’m in a crappy mood, but that doesn’t give me the right to dump it on others.
Kimberly recently posted…Commodore 64: A Different Generation
I think even in your worst days you don’t lose your sense of human decency, kindness, respect, love. Some people never had all that to begin with.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately because I’m learning about this concept called “mindfulness,” which challenges each person to be present in each moment with compassion for yourself and for others. But, what about when something sucks, or is unjust, or is just plain mean … how then compassion???
Anyway, in the class I’m taking they shared this poem and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s not a Christian perspective I suppose, but it makes you think!
The Guest House – Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
anymommy recently posted…Summer Loving
Hey Stacey, do you think this poem represents people coming over. Or does it represent each emotion we feel?