(If you want to hear Lori read the story click)here

 

The other day I was shopping and ran into a friend I had not seen in ages. We stood in the aisle and blabbed for about fifteen minutes. We had a lot of catching up to do. 

 

As I drove home, I revisited the conversation we had shared. I realized that she had complained about her husband, her mother, her next door neighbor, and her daughter. Although I had willingly listened at the time, I began to wonder if I would be fodder for her next tête-à-tête. I could not recall anyone she had expressed appreciation for.

 

Now I am all for friendships where you can vent. Certainly I have done my share. But what if that is all that happens?

 

As is the case with most muscles, kindness get stronger with use. So does complaining.

 

In every marriage group we lead, we devote ten minutes to voicing the good things to each other. What never ceases to amaze me is that the atmosphere in the room actually changes. Sometimes we go the extra mile and invite people to brag about their spouse in front of the group. It is as delicious as the sweetest caramel, and has no calories.

 

I remember the last years of my mother's life. She had been the star attraction of more than a few people's rants, when her mania was in full bloom. Perhaps as a response to that, although I will never really know, I could not weasel gossip out of my mother's lips. Mom would only say the good things. At the time I thought it was boring. Now I think it is stellar.

 

The other day I was speaking ill of someone, right before I ran across them at church. I felt like a total jerk. They could not hear the echo of my words, but I could.

 

I believe that when I cross into the other world after death, all of my intentions will become visible. Since that transition is getting closer all the time, I feel compelled to clean up my act before rigor mortis sets in. 

 

 

Photo by Jenny Stein

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