holy crap!: calling me out

Last week I mentioned I’d add a second “holy crap!” post this week and kick off the series with some transparency about my own struggles in this area. Here goes:

Last year while working on a freelance project I had to interview people from a local organization. Several times in the process I became frustrated by the last-minute answers to my requests or the incomplete information I received. Although each of the individuals I talked to was competent and friendly, the laid-back culture and “everyone does everything around here” nature of the workplace led to misunderstandings.

During the end of the project, I called my main contact at the company. We’ll call her Tracy. A few days before, I had visited her office to pick up some materials and felt annoyed by…….something I can’t remember now. On this call I rehearsed the list of interviews I’d completed and became irritated again when she interrupted to question why so-and-so wasn’t on my list because he was “the MOST important.”

I had two options. The healthy, positive option would have been to say, “Tracy, I’ve been trying to understand how everything fits together and sometimes it’s difficult because I’m not getting enough information early enough in the process. I already asked this person for an interview and he hasn’t responded. If it’s really important for me to connect with him, I need you to make it happen, and to let me know now if there is anyone else I’m missing.”

The significantly less Christ-like response would have been to say, with an edge in my voice, “Tracy, I asked him and never heard back. I’m running out of time. It would have been good to know this earlier.”


Guess which I chose.


There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and then Tracy said, “Jen, the last couple of times we’ve talked you’ve seemed really irritated. I’m not sure what I’ve done, or why you’re unhappy with me, but I think we need to talk about it.”

Ouch. Double ouch.

She was right and she had the character to address it. I gulped, explained the reasons behind my annoyance, and apologized for my tone.

There is so much to learn here, but let’s start with three lessons and you can tell me more in the comments:

1. Dealing with conflict doesn’t have to involve raised voices, drama or fighting.

2. My reasons for being annoyed were still valid. Accepting responsibility for my irritated behavior did not mean pretending like the original issue didn’t exist. It just created a wide open space to talk productively instead of passive-aggressively about the problem.

3. You’ll note that I can’t even remember one of the issues that originally bothered me. That is so often the case, but such small things can eventually cause huge relational fallout if allowed to fester. Instead, today when I see Tracy at the church we both attend, she does not (I presume) feel any hurt or anger toward me, nor do I toward her. There is a bit of awkwardness, but I would feel no hesitation serving with her on a project again.

Tracy chose to deal with the conflict instead of trying to ignore it, and we’re both better for it.


I love what Evie Coates says in her blog post about receiving a reprimand:

So when I am scolded, confronted, approached, how then do I conduct myself? What my brain wants is to shake it off and deliver one of my well-crafted zingers right back, to give the appearance that I haven’t effectively been cut down to size, that I’m contentedly cold to the heat of tension. But what my spirit tells me is to calmly pave over the rift, admit to my obtuseness and move on with grace and more awareness, having learned the lesson that was put there for me to learn. I also try to remember to operate under the assumption that if someone cares enough to confront me, it could mean that they care enough about me and who I am forever becoming to step in and help the process along.

I’m grateful for the process, grateful for Tracy, and grateful for the lesson she taught me.