Joyless or Joyful

Do you go high or low when confronted? I’ll be honest—I can do either.

Every single one of us has a breaking point. Usually, it isn’t the first person who irritates you, but the last one who pushes you over the edge. Is that fair? No. But after blow upon blow, quelling the fire-breathing dragon that’s been sitting quietly for so long becomes harder. Each hit to your emotional circuit weakens your restraint.

I often match energy and don’t back down. When I feel attacked, going rogue can feel automatic. Is that right? No.

As a mother of a 12-year-old at 51 (I had him at 39), I’m older than most of the moms in his friend group. I’m not a gentle, hovering parent. I teach lessons instead of rushing to defend him every time. I’m not foolish enough to believe he’s innocent in every situation.

The divide between today’s hovering parenting style and my more old-school approach will never fully agree. We have different views, and we resolve conflict differently. My son probably wishes I were younger, turned a blind eye, and reveled in his perfection. That isn’t happening over here. To each their own.

I strive to handle situations with grace. Still, there are moments when a factory-reset slap sounds tempting. I’ve worked hard on my anger over the years, yet I still fight the urge to sink into pettiness. It isn’t easy.

Grace doesn’t mean being a doormat.
Grace means choosing not to become what you’re confronting.

Reading the Bible and learning how to handle conflict is challenging for me at times. However, it’s necessary if I want peace instead of bitterness.

“A hot-tempered person stirs up conflict, but the one who is patient calms a quarrel.” — Proverbs 15:18
“A servant of the Lord must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful, correcting opponents with gentleness.” — 2 Timothy 2:24
“In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry.” — Ephesians 4:26

You get the point.

I will never be perfect like Jesus, and I admit that freely. For some, admitting imperfection is difficult. When humility collides with pride, it’s like gasoline on a fire.

So I’ll ask again:
When confronted, do you go high… or do you go low?

Going low is easy. Going high is obedience.