Engaging Conflict Rightly

A few months back, my daughter had an appointment with her orthodontist. She has follow-up appointments every eight weeks while she endures the childhood anguish of wearing braces. The office has a really cool incentive program for kids: they can earn “wooden nickels” by doing things like maintaining good dental hygiene and having no broken appliances. The nickels can be turned in for goodies from the prize cabinet. There is even a ticket to Michigan’s Adventure (this is the prize my daughter has her eye on). One way you can earn nickels is to follow the orthodontist on social media. Her father and I both followed the orthodontist’s Instagram page, earning my daughter two wooden nickels.

In today’s COVID world, I can’t go into the orthodontist’s office with my daughter. On this particular day, I sent her into the building while I waited in the van. When she came back out, she told me that she had received three wooden nickels; we had expected she would earn five. I asked her, did she tell them that her dad and I had both followed them on Instagram? “No,” she said. “I was too shy.”

I called the office from the car and explained the situation.

“Sure! Send her right back in!” said the lady on the phone.

Not long after, my daughter happily reemerged from the office with her two additional nickels.

Want in on a secret? I didn’t want to make that phone call. I didn’t want to bother them; I didn’t want them to think that I was being bratty; I didn’t want to be “that mom.” I made the call because my daughter needed me to do something for her that she could not do for herself.

I hate confrontation. I recognize calling the orthodontist to ask for two wooden nickels is hardly a confrontation, but it was still one of those conversations that made me feel slightly icky. It was a little anxiety-provoking, just something I’d rather not do. But I did it because I am the adult. As the adult, I am supposed to be the braver of the two of us. Adulthood should have made me less timid and more assertive, right?

Here’s the plain truth: I am afraid to confront others. I get scared of an odd look or a poor reaction. I get scared of being misunderstood or unliked. What if I inadvertently invite an argument? What if the argument gets heated? What if it turns from heated to ugly? What if the person gets mad at me? What if the person stays mad at me?

I have always been conflict-averse, and I think that’s okay. It’s okay to avoid conflict. After all, Scripture tells us “So far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Rom. 12:18 ESV). However, the same book also tells us that in life there is, “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace” (Eccl. 3:7-8 ESV).

In those moments when I am tempted to withdraw from the unpleasant, I remind myself that at times, confrontation is more than warranted; it is necessary. Life and people will present situations that must be opposed. I can’t avoid conflict by any means or at any cost. The fact is, sometimes conflict avoidance looks a lot like selfishness.

There will be times when someone needs me to engage in conflict on their behalf. Am I acting in my child’s best interest if I choose to ignore the gut feeling that tells me something might be amiss with their teacher? Sure, it is easier to let it go than to start poking around. But am I loving my child well if I keep my head safely tucked inside my metaphorical shell? Should I be putting my need to avoid what scares me ahead of my child’s need to rely on me as an advocate?

There are also times when the best thing I can do for another person is to confront them. My need for harmony shouldn’t be placed above their need to hear hard truths that might redeem them. Am I placing my fear of jeopardizing the relationship over their need to have their blind spots exposed? Am I choosing to shower them with the kisses of an enemy because I’m too selfish to inflict on them the wounds of a friend? Am I disingenuously telling them what they want to hear because I fear they won’t react well to the truth? It is easy to fall into unhealthy patterns of silence and tacit agreement. Peace-keeping is a high value—it just isn’t the highest.

Few are the rewards to be found on the path of least resistance. Saying what needs to be said, boldly or feebly, in the best interest of another is part of being a Christ-follower. God always rewards obedience; sometimes that reward comes in the form of a big smile on the face of a girl whose teeth are looking straighter already.

Amy Beaulieu lives in Michigan with her husband and four (soon to be five!) children. She is a lover of music, language, and all things thought-provoking. She is a witness and testimony to God’s redemptive grace.

Photograph © Women of Color in Tech, used with permission