It's Monday night. You've just kicked off your Reeboks, poured yourself a cold beverage, and settled into the couch. Your favorite team is three points behind the Cowboys. Your wife is seated nearby, reading Women Are From Cleveland, Men Are From the Bronx.
Suddenly the cordless phone rings. Picking it up, you listen for 30 minutes, saying only "Uh huh," then hang up, not once taking your eyes off the TV.
"Who was that?" asks your wife from behind the book.
"Biff Slootweg's aunt."
"Well?" she says.
"Well what?"
"Well...we haven't seen Biffy since sixth grade. How is he?"
"Fine," you say.
"Fine? What did his aunt say?"
"She said he's fine."
"Come on. What else did she say?" Your wife sets the book aside, a sign that you are about to be subjected to district-attorney-type questions that will not relent until after the two-minute warning. So you push the mute button and tell her the story:
"Biff is fine. Ever since the discovery that his adoptive parents weren't really Russian spies after all, but were working for Iraq, and Biff started skipping school and began sneaking around the world with them, keeping the CIA informed of their every move, until that fateful night aboard the nuclear submarine when they discovered the tiny microchips he had implanted in their earlobes and Biff was tossed into a Baghdad prison where he was flogged daily until his dramatic escape in a blimp during the Gulf War."
"Wow!" says your wife. "That's just amazing..."
"See, I told you," you say, punching the mute button. "Biff is fine."
Is there a problem in this house?
If this conversation has the slightest ring of familiarity, you are probably suffering from Communication Deficit Disorder (CDD). If you're still in denial, take the following quiz to determine if you have a communication problem:
1. Have you ever been hit with a large object while your wife stood nearby, smiling?
2. If someone needs to reach you with an important message such as, "Sir, get off the couch, your house is ablaze," would they ask Al Michaels to announce it during halftime?
3. When your family is with you, are you often not with them?
4. Do you have trouble remembering minor details such as how many cartons of milk you were supposed to pick up on your way home, why you were transferred to Idaho, or the names of your kids?
If you answered yes to any or all of these questions, chances are you suffer from CDD. I am a fellow sufferer. To complicate matters, I was also diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) back in kindergarten. They say I have trouble concentrating, which is ridiculous because, let's face it...uh...did I tell you that I was once diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder?
I have learned a few communication lessons through the years. For example, when your wife asks, "Do you think I'm fat?" you had better listen up.
The thing about such questions is that there is no correct answer. If you say "no" it means "yes." "Yes" means "you bet." "Sort of" means "absolutely." If you laugh during any of your answers, you could go without a well-balanced meal for weeks.
During the past few years I would like to think I've shown some improvement in the communication area. Of course, this is partly due to the fact that I now live on my own. No, seriously, here are three things I've learned that, for the most part, have brought harmony and some good meals, to our marriage and home.
1. Men and women are different. It's not rocket science, but men and women have different expectations, different aspirations, different needs. For instance, my wife needs nurturing, friendship, protection, romance, faithfulness, and clothes that fit, whereas I need food, sex and, well, I can't think of anything else offhand. I may be exaggerating here, but the point is, we're different. Let's put our wives first, and celebrate our differences.
2. Forgetfulness can be a virtue. Last Christmas my wife and I didn't speak for a full three days. It gave "Silent Night" a whole new twist. I won't embarrass myself by telling you the trivial reason for our silence, but when Ramona began sneaking my presents out from under the tree and returning them to fine hardware stores everywhere, the thought hit me: You know, at one point this wasn't a real big deal. Then I remembered Ephesians 4:32, "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." God is in the business of forgiving and forgetting, I thought. I'd better be too.
"Honey," I said, with great difficulty, "I'm sorry. I was wrong." As it turned out, she was quick to forgive. She even brought back my presents.
3. Use your ears more than your mouth. Dr. Joyce Brothers said about her sports-addicted husband, "If we did get a divorce, the only way he would know it is if they announced it on Wide World of Sports." I sincerely hope things aren't this bad at your house. If they are, I suggest radical surgery that would include the removal of your retinas. At least you'll have your ears left. I think the apostle James was thinking of guys like us when he wrote, "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" (James 1:19).
Without exception, the best times I've spent with my wife always come along when I listen. When I put her first. When I hit my own mute button and show genuine interest.
Now, I'd better go. The phone's ringing and it's probably Biff's aunt. On second thought, I think I'll let my wife answer. NM
Phil Callaway is editor of Prairie Bible Institute's Servant magazine, and the author of The Total Christian Guy and Honey, I Dunked the Kids (Harvest House).