The Fight is Never About the Mugs

Have you ever noticed that the people you love the most also frustrate you the most?

Maybe you have one of those people in your house who puts the milk back with a little sip left in it. It's clearly not enough for a bowl of cereal. It's barely enough for coffee. But they put it back anyway, like, "Here, you throw this out."

Or maybe you live with the thermostat guardian. You change the temperature one degree, and somewhere on the total other end of the house they feel it and yell, "Who touched the thermostat?"

Or you've got a conversation corrector. You're out with friends telling a great story about something that happened to you, and everybody's leaning in to listen. Then right at the good part: "It was a Tuesday. It wasn't Monday, it was Tuesday."

Really? Really?

In our house, it's the cups. My wife, Amy, insists on putting the mugs and drinking glasses upside down in the cabinet. I don't know why she does this. I don't know whether she thinks we have bugs. We don't have bugs. So when I empty the dishwasher, I put the cups the right way. Up. Ready to receive liquid. And I'll come back a little later and every one of my cups has been turned upside down.

Now, before I throw my wife completely under the bus, I am not innocent either. When I'm watching football, I like to grab a bag of chips or a box of cookies so I can snack during the game. Then I get distracted, walk away, and leave them sitting there. And Amy, who is amazing, comes by and puts them away.

I thought everything was working great. Then a couple months ago her daughter came to visit. I was in the other room, and I heard her say, "Mom, why do you clean up after him?"

And Amy said, "It's just easier that way."

I'm sitting in the other room thinking, I make my wife's life easier. That's great.

Here's what I can't figure out. I'll pull into Food Lion and somebody's parked across two spots, and it annoys me. For about ten seconds. But you flip the mugs over on me and I'm thinking about it for a week.

What is that? Why do the people we love the most frustrate us so often?

I think it's because underneath the milk and the thermostat and the cups, we want something. And it's nothing ridiculous. We want our spouse to notice what we did today without having to give them a play-by-play. We want one conversation with our kids that doesn't revolve around a ride or money. We want somebody at work to notice we've been working a little extra hard lately. We want somebody at church to notice we've been faithfully serving in the same spot for six years. Not that we're doing it for that reason. But still.

So we hint. Hey, notice the kitchen's clean? Notice the dishwasher's empty?

When the hinting doesn't work, we hint louder.

And when louder doesn't work, we stop hinting and start keeping score.

Here's how it usually works. It starts with a desire. I'd love for you to notice me. I'd love for you to notice I've been with the kids all day and I need a break. There's nothing wrong with that.

But then the desire moves to a demand. Now it's not "I want that." Now it's "I should have that." You should notice. I mean, if you have two eyes and can look around this house, you should notice what I've done.

When the demand doesn't get met, it turns into a verdict. You never notice. You never pay attention. You always do this.

And once the verdict is in, it's time for the punishment. Maybe it's the silent treatment.

Maybe it's a little edge in my voice, a little sarcasm. Or maybe it's an all-out, knock-down fight, and we're yelling about the dishes when the dishes were never the point.

Desire. Demand. Verdict. Punishment.

Somewhere along the way, most of us make a decision.

Maybe we never say it out loud, but we start living by a rule.

It’s better to be blank than blank...

It’s better to be angry than to be hurt.

It’s better to be right than it is to be close.

It’s better to not want anything than to keep getting let down.

Where does that come from? I think most of us are reading off a playbook, a script somebody handed us at some point in our lives. We've been playing off it so long we're not even conscious it's running in the background. It sounds something like this:

Expect what you deserve. Protect yourself from hurt.

Stuff it or demand it. Be right.

Of course you deserve something. Do you know who I am? Do you know how long I've been doing this? Do you see the things I do around here? So you expect it. And when it doesn't come, you put up walls so it can't hurt you again. You stuff it down, or you demand it. Either way, you make sure you're right.

That script is old. About two thousand years ago, a man named James wrote a letter to a group of early Christians who were fighting with each other. James was Jesus' brother, so he knew a thing or two about family conflict. And he opens with almost the exact question I've been asking about my mugs:

"What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don't they come from your desires that battle within you?" (James 4:1)

See, we think it's her. We think it's him. If he would just, if she would just, then I wouldn't have all these problems. I'd be a really good Christian if it weren't for people.

James says the thing frustrating you with all the people in your life comes from within. There's a desire. There's a longing. Something inside you is tripping you up.

But notice what he doesn't say. He never says the desire is bad. Your frustration is a blocked desire. You have something you long for, and you keep going to the people around you to get it.

That's why I trust what God says about this. It works in real life because He's the one who wired us up. He knows what's under the cups better than we do.

So here's where I'd start. The next time you feel yourself getting frustrated with someone you love, right before the snide comment or the sigh or the silence, ask yourself what's underneath. Am I not feeling noticed? Not valued? Not important? Find the desire under the demand.

Then you're left with a bigger question.

If the people you love can't give you what you're looking for, who can?