catch-up ketchup

Our supper club was at our home for dinner recently. My husband Mike, who loves to grill all kinds of meats, had prepared some ribs. He worked hard brining and marinating the meat in delicious spices on and off all day. The few minutes before serving dinner, he was busy making sure everyone had what they needed. I was more aware of the conversation and connection happening between our friends than getting the food on the table. The mood was lighthearted, and everyone was anticipating a tasty meal and the time together.

But a few minutes into the meal I felt the conversation wandering.  I was sitting right next to my husband, so I leaned over to him and whispered, “We need to catch-up.” I was referring to our plan for the evening to “catch up” with one another and ask a question to bring about meaningful conversation. Since most of us are around retirement age, we wanted to ask everyone what their plans were for working in the next years. It has been a topic before, and several of us have retired or are working part-time.

Instead, no less than thirty seconds later, my husband asked the table, “Does anyone need any KETCHUP?”

I was stunned and then I started laughing. I explained to Mike what I actually said and then he started laughing with me. As we told our friends, we all had a belly laugh.

We still laugh about this missed connection and how it illustrates how different we are and how hard listening and communication can be. Most of that day, as we worked to get ready for the dinner, we were operating in our own world. We talked very little about our plan for the time except what we absolutely needed to discuss. I worked on cleaning up, preparing the table and the other food needed for dinner. Mike had been focusing on the meat and how he was cooking it. We discussed our question on retirement , but mostly we were in our own worlds with our own agendas.

For us both, our agenda comes from our own stories and upbringings. I had been focusing on the connections in the room. As a child, there was little connection at our dinner table and much focus on all the details of the meal. For my husband, who grew up at times with little to eat, food was the focus. Neither focus is wrong, but they are very different. “Missing” each other was an opportunity to explore what was going on and talk about our differences to understand each other and know one another even more.

This is a funny example of miscommunication. It was a rather harmless miss and, of course, it was not wrong for each of us to be preoccupied with our own tasks. We still laugh about it, but there are many other examples that haven’t been as funny, where we have missed each other in ways that have caused hurt and pain instead.

For instance, just yesterday Mike was sharing a disappointment he felt. I heard the first few sentences, and my response was to say why he shouldn’t feel that way and that he was making assumptions about the situation. He rightly told me he felt like I didn’t want to listen to how he felt. From my perspective, I think I didn’t want him to be disappointed, but instead my response was hurtful and shut down the conversation.

Listening is hard. It takes putting aside our own desires to allow the other person to communicate how they feel and their own desires. I needed to be present to my husband and curious about his words. Instead, I was quick interrupt and tell him what I thought. In doing so, I missed the point he was trying to convey and hurt him.

I did ask to talk about my quick response and apologized for interrupting and not listening. He responded with grace. He thanked me for coming back to it and we talked more about his disappointment. I listened with more understanding and less defense of my agenda. We understood each other more.  This was an opportunity to know more of Gods’ gracious forgiveness and understand my own wayward heart. And an opportunity to understand my husband and what is important to him as well.

My devotional recently was on a verse in Proverbs about listening. Proverbs 18:13 tells us “To answer before listening-that is folly and shame.” I found this verse hit home with me as it points out my failure to listen and respond so quickly out of my own agenda. I know that I feel known and loved when I am heard. I want to do the same for my husband and others too.

These are such good words if we are just willing to listen.

Laurie has been a counselor at The Barnabas Center since 2018.  She completed her Master of Christian Counseling at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary in 2015 and her undergraduate degree in Human Development at UNC-Chapel Hill. Laurie is married to Michael and they have five grown children, three grandsons, and one granddaughter.  In her spare time, she enjoys yoga, walking, reading, spending time with friends and family, especially playing with her grandchildren.