The missing word

Note: This post continues my Proclamation series

True or false: The word "communication" shows up in the Family Proclamation.

Answer: False! It doesn't show up once!

You might be thinking, what? Surely it shows up as one of the principles on which successful families are established! Nope:

Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.

How could this be? Every lesson I have ever heard about happy marriages talks about communication. Without it marriages crumble. What were they thinking?

I've thought about this the past few days, and here are my conclusions.

1. That list isn't exhaustive. I think communication would be a nice addition to that list, as would trust, kindness, and a sense of humor. We don't have to be told everything that we ought to do.

2. That said . . . perhaps communication isn't the golden key to happiness that we sometimes credit it to be. Let's suppose that the definition of communication is expressing feelings and words to another person so that they understand exactly what you are trying to say. (That seems to be the definition given by marriage books.) Well, what if what you were communicating was, "I don't like you anymore. You are dumb and ugly and lazy. I am constantly disappointed in you." Yeah, you've just been an effective communicator, but that's not going to heal any marriages any time soon.

More important to a happy marriage, I believe, is respect and compassion. If you have this as a basis for your marriage, then I feel like a marriage can withstand a bit of miscommunication.

Story time. That silly story in my last post reminded me of another time that I didn't enunciate very well. It was soon after we got married since I remember that the living room was full of boxes. I don't remember what I said, but I think Kevin gave me a courtesy laugh. Then I thought about what I said and how dumb it actually was. In disgust, I said, "You've got a weird wife," and then stomped over to the other side of the room to unpack another box. Kevin didn't say a word but instead sat there in cold silence with a shocked look on his face. Because he didn't say anything to make me feel better, I felt like he secretly thought I was weird, so I felt a little hurt. We spent the rest of the evening uneasy around each other.

That night in bed, he spoke carefully. "So . . . you think I've got a weird laugh?"
"What? No! I love your laugh. Why would you think that?" I responded.

Then I realized that "laugh" sounded like "wife" and that he must have misheard me when I snarled, "you've got a weird wife."  No wonder he seemed so hurt all evening -- he thought I had made fun of him! When we both realized our mistakes and misperceptions, the hardness in the room dissipated. We both laugh now every time one of us brings it up.

On the surface, this is a story about communication. And it is. If I had spoken more clearly or if he had asked for clarification, we could have enjoyed that evening a lot more. But I think the real problem was that we didn't yet have foundations of respect and compassion. Since we hadn't been married long, he didn't yet know that I would never have spoken so cruelly about his laugh, or anything about him. Likewise, I didn't know that had he actually understood me, he wouldn't have let me sulk in silence and self-pity.

What am I getting at? Communication is important, but just spouting words back and forth isn't going to lead to a successful marriage. They need to be kind words and backed up with kind actions and feelings. They need to be words of repentance and forgiveness. They need to be words of love.