Growing up my wife’s parents never yelled. Therefore, yelling is just not something that she can get used to. On the other hand, my parents yelled frequently. So I am used to it. And sometimes, I use it.
We discuss often its effectiveness and whether or not we should yell. She doesn’t like it and neither do I, but its somewhat normal to me, so I struggle to get rid of it and sometimes believe it is effective.
I never yell at my wife, but sometimes I do yell at my growing boys that seem intent on terrorizing Mom, Dad, baby sister, the plants outside, the shoes on the rack, their bedroom, our bedroom, the computer, the CTRL-key on Daddy’s computer; everything really.
However, lately I’ve been examining the effectiveness of yelling. I don’t do it out of anger (most of the time). And even control the volume carefully so that I am projecting just the right amount of yell that I want them to receive.
Why I Yell
I yell because they get into things they shouldn’t, step on their sister’s feet, take things off the Christmas tree, climb the walls (literally), break things, and ignore me when I’m talking to them.
I also yell because I’m lazy. I’m too lazy to walk over to the sink to help the youngest turn off the water. I’m too lazy to take a few moments to see what is causing all the ruckus. I’m too lazy to do anything beyond yell at them.
Conducting a Yell Experiment
I’m a scientist of sorts. When I think something is something, I devise a little model and test it out to see if I’m right. So I conducted a yelling experiment to test its effectiveness. The results are anecdotal and not that surprising, but they do hit the heart with some force.
I called my oldest boy (he’s nearly four) over to me the other day. I told him that I loved him, gave him a hug, and said explicitly that he had done nothing wrong. I even told him why I was about to yell at him.
Then I let it rip.
I raised my voice considerably and told him to go pick up one of his toys and bring it to me. It must have been a tremendous yell, as my infant daughter that was sleeping in Mom’s arms was no longer sleeping. She was now yelling too.
My son walked straight for his toy, picked it up, and brought it to me. He accomplished the task just as I asked. For the purpose of accomplishing the task set before him, yelling was effective.
But then a curious thing happened.
After handing me the toy, he immediately went over to a cupboard that he likes to play in and he hid. I called out to him and only after some serious coercion would he come out. Holding him in my arms he explained to me the best way that he could that he was upset because I yelled at him.
Even though I had let him know beforehand that I was not angry with him and he hadn’t done anything wrong, he was still upset. Our relationship was fractured.
But the experiment wasn’t over.
Putting him down, I looked him straight in the eyes and asked him in a nice calm voice to cross the room again and pick up a different toy. He left and did exactly what I wanted. He dawdled a little (I felt the burn to yell after him), but he did accomplish the task.
But then a curious thing happened.
He returned to his cupboard. He was still upset. Our relationship was still broken in his eyes. He desperately wanted to be held and to know that I wasn’t angry with him.I held him for a long time.
The Results
Both methods had the result of an accomplished task, but only when I spoke to him kindly was our relationship left intact. Yelling, out of anger or desperation or because you think it is effective, tears relationship apart. And it conditions people to be okay with yelling, even believing that it is normal.
There’s this passage in James, it goes like this:
My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. (James 1:19-20), NIV)
Anger is not a sin, but sometimes we sin in the methods we choose to display our anger. Sometimes our methods display anger even when we are not. Both result in a broken relationship.
I screw up fairly often. I sin. I make poor choices. I act out stupidly. And using my reasoning above, I should be yelled at by Jesus. But Jesus never yells at me. That isn’t to say He isn’t dissappointed with my behavior at times. But He never yells.
Instead, He waits with everlasting patience and love for me to get a hold of my horses, come to my knees and ask Him to forgive me. Sometimes He allows me to face the consequences of my actions, but He doesn’t raise His voice.
When I sense a broken relationship between God and me it has never been due to Him. Its always me. My son thought our relationship was broken, but it wasn’t his fault. But when my relationship with God is cracked, its because of my own attitudes.
Man’s anger, my anger, does not produce righteousness. And it harms relationships. That’s what yelling does.
This post has been cross-posted at The Holy Life.
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