It’s mid-summer now; routines have been abolished, boredom has set in. It’s too hot to play outside, you’re getting on each other’s nerves; the kids are squabbling. 

Now what?

For the last few weeks we’ve been talking about how to deal with conflict between siblings. About humility and giving a blessing, about knowing the fears that lie behind your children’s conflicts, and about asking the best questions to get to the heart of the tension. Then a week or so ago, I wrote about the best way to bring peace by a genuine, God-honoring apology.

We’re talking about conflict honestly and openly because it’s an every-day occurrence in our homes, right? 

I mean, when was the last time your kids spent a full day together without some sort of scuffle? 

I promised at the beginning of this series that I wouldn’t give you any money-back-guarantees or magic formulas. 

Why? 

Because, the truth is…

You can’t make your kids like each other. 

My kids struggled just like yours do. They bickered and badgered, pushing buttons only siblings see. For certain seasons they got along famously— best friends even. At other times they could hardly stand each other. 

But last week I experienced something I believe you will too— someday. 

Every other year we set aside a week for Camp Comer. Everyone comes: all four of our kids, their spouses (who are actually, really our kids now too), and our six Grands: Jude, Moses, Sunday, Duke, Scarlet, and little Birdie. 

We played hilarious games, walked on the beach, went for runs in the forest, made pretend sand cakes, and ate lots and lots of real, fresh food too. 

We talked for hours and hours. 

All the grown kids went out for coffee, then lunch while Amma and Pops played with our favorite-people-in-the-world.

I watched in awe as my kids who used to annoy each other, now genuinely enjoy each other. 

On the last night we plopped the kids in front of a movie upstairs, the rest of us nestled in cushy chairs, lounged on sofas, or sprawled on the floor. Sunburned, scruffy, relaxed, and at rest. 

A family. 

Then, one by one, we went around the messy circle and opened up our hearts to each other. 

The hard things. 

The confusing decisions. 

Unanswered prayers. 

The victories— yes, but also what it cost to get there. 

We cried. We advised. We sympathized, and empathized, and asked questions— we cared. 

Some spoke prophetic words while the rest of us held our breath at the beauty of the Spirit flowing from one of our own onto ones we all love. 

And I took it all in like Mary must have done when she “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” 

Our family has become our tribe: loyal, faithful, steadfast. We have each other’s backs. We believe in each other. We offer affirmation and affection. We show interest and support. 

Amazing!

We’re still the overly opinionated, loud, willful Comers we’ve always been. 

But the good work God began decades ago is bearing fruit. We’re nicer than we used to be, more humble, slower to take offense, quicker to forgive. 

I don’t think I ever allowed myself to believe this kind of family was possible. And I’m not going to give you 10 ways to get the perfect family— because there’s no such thing. 

But I do want to tell you one secret that helped—a lot. It’s a tool anyone can use. A magical, transformational, God-inspired way of relating that makes our tribe the safest people to be with. 

Peacemaking Skill #8: Learn the Language of Encouragement

I didn’t speak this language when Phil and I married 39 years ago. Didn’t know the vocabulary or the context, couldn’t articulate the words my heart wanted to say. 

But Phil was fluent in this foreign-to-me way of speaking. And he taught me. 

I watched the way his words could change the atmosphere in our home— instantly. I saw how our kids threw their shoulders back when he pointed out something great about them. How everyone got nicer to each other when Phil showered just one of us with affectionate words. 

So I started to copy him.

At first it took a lot of courage. I felt fake, like an overly enthusiastic salesman. I meant the words, but saying them out loud was… weird for a while.

My kids responded with the purrs and affection of starved-for-more kitty cats. They loved it— unabashedly glorying in my praise. Joy all over their upturned faces. 

And they turned that affection and joy and sense of confidence right on to each other. 

John Mark told me (in front of his sisters and brother) something Rebekah did nice. 

Rebekah told Elizabeth how pretty she looked. 

Elizabeth admired John Mark out-loud and thanked Rebekah for playing with her. 

By the time Matt was born, our kids were full-on fluent in this language of encouragement.

Matt joined in from the moment he could talk— not a language that had to be learned, but a way of relating that he absorbed into the marrow of his bones. 

I have come to believe that encouragement is the single most effective peacemaking skill in any and all relationships.

Why? I think it’s because…

Every one of us are starved for encouragement; we can’t get enough! 

Like dehydration, most of us don’t even know how much we need a long, cool drink of good-to-us words. 

When we get them, something shifts inside our souls. Something opens. We open. We open to each other.

Sitting in that living room listening to my kids be vulnerable, watching them love each other, pray for each other, praise each other— I kept thinking about all the young parents— about you.

And I realized that the one thing I wanted to pass on to you is how Phil’s proficiency in this language of encouragement— and my learning too— enabled this miracle that we now get to experience as normal. 

It’s not a quick fix. 

It’s a brick-upon-brick building of artfully crafted walls that make for a family that feels safe and heard and needed and valued. 

Start now, today. Close your device and notice something good about your son or daughter. Then say it out-loud. Tonight at dinner, tell everyone. 

If you’re not used to this way of speaking don’t be surprised if you stutter at first. Keep at it. See what a difference a daily dose of 3 or 4 noticings per family member makes.

Then listen, because I think some of the squabbling will stop. 

I mean, really, who lashes out at someone who just told them they’re beautiful? Or smart, or patient, or kind, or so incredibly organized and good at puzzles?

I’ll be writing more about this for those of you who, like me, aren’t naturally encouraging. Because this is a skill that can be learned. 

You can get good at giving generous, genuine words to those you love. 

From a heart in awe at the power of life-giving words,

Diane