CREEDE HINSHAW: Making a mess of washing the front porch

Earlier this week, I swept and washed our front brick porch, a task my wife had asked me to do. After finishing, I cleaned 48 panes on two porch windows, dug up four dead azalea bushes and folded a load of laundry.

That sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Well, it is not impressive. In reality the only commendable task was the first one: washing the porch. I undertook the other three jobs because of my big mouth and an angry spirit.

We had company coming for the weekend and my wife asked me if I would wash the porch. I readily agreed and declined her offer of help. As I look back on it, I believe I declined her help because I wanted to do the job without outside interference.

Not a good sign.

When I was almost finished with the porch, the trouble began. Trouble all of my own making. Opening the front door my wife asked, “Do you think you might do the windows, too?”

Before I had realized it I snarled, “I knew that this task would lead to something else!” That might not sound like much in print, but it was mean-spirited and unnecessary.

Her reply came as it so often does, with grace. “I was just wondering if you could hose them down a little bit, too.” After she closed the door, I steamed. Not at her. At me! What would make a husband blurt out so unnecessarily?

Of course I would wash the windows. I had no other choice. How else does one make up for such a petulant reply? I did wash the windows and, still feeling guilty, I dug up those four long-dead azaleas in the hot afternoon sun and folded a basket of laundry.

The biblical word atonement came to mind. I was trying hard to make up for my foolishness. And though Protestants don’t always use the same terminology as our Catholic friends, I realized that my extra tasks were self-imposed penance.

So that’s how it ended, you ask? No. My wife is very forgiving, and my atoning actions probably would have done the trick. But that would have been the coward’s way out. When I saw her later that afternoon I had to apologize. Not because she demanded it, but because it was the right thing to do. I had blurted out a hurtful accusation and I now had to seek her forgiveness and apologize for my immaturity.

She was – predictably – very generous.

It was a small situation, of course. But I have seen many incidents where a person lashes out– often in a family setting – and then tries to make up for it by avoiding the original situation. Such a ploy is fearful in the short term and a failure in the long run.

One who speaks with anger or blame must set the situation aright – if possible – not with explanations, justifications or prevarications, but by admitting failure and seeking reconciliation.

Email Creede Hinshaw, a retired Methodist minister, at [email protected].