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南茜姊妹 ▍我是女人，我不吼
我的弟弟丹说：“我要回家了，你们俩吵来吵去都快让我疯掉了。听你们没完没了地吵，简直比嚼锡箔纸还让人闹心。”
而我为我们之间的争吵辩护：“喂！我们也不是每件事情都会争执。我和罗恩在大事上意见一致，比如如何花钱、如何养尼克、谁开车开得更好（当然是我了）这样的大事上，我们基本上是不吵的。我们只为小事吵而已。”
丹叹气说：“哎！听到你们俩为在哪里放浴巾架、看哪个电视节目、谁没关灯这样的小事吵架，我都快抓狂了。这都是愚蠢至极的小事。一年之后谁会在意这些事情啊？你为什么非得要说他把草坪修剪得很难看呢？我知道不是那么完美，但是你不能就放手一次吗？”
“我不能！”我反驳道，“明天家里就要来客人了，我想让后院好看一些，所以我才让他去剪草坪，这是很大的事情！我们是70年代结婚的，有人告诉我说如果想让别人按照我说的去做，我就得吼，所以我冲他吼了，这确实管用，因为他重新修剪了，我赢了。”
丹停了一下，摇了摇头，说：“如果你总是这样的话，也许吵架的时候你会赢，但是你会失去你的丈夫。”我照着他的胳膊给了他一拳，满不在乎地说：“哦，别在那里危言耸听了！”
第二天晚上，我和罗恩出去和一些好几年没见的朋友吃饭。我们记忆中的卡尔非常风趣、非常阳光，但那天晚上他看上去很悲伤、很疲倦。大部分时间都是他的妻子贝丝在说话。她跟我们说她在工作上取得的辉煌成就，还喋喋不休地夸他们家那几个聪明得无可救药的孩子。
而对于她的丈夫，除了批评，她就没有什么可谈论的了。在我们点完餐之后，贝丝突然说：“卡尔，我看你刚才和那个女服务员眉来眼去的！”（其实卡尔并没有。）
“卡尔！”，她又抱怨道，“你就不能做件对的事情吗？怎么老像个小孩一样拿餐刀呢？”（这点倒确实是真的）
当卡尔把甜点菜单上的一个词读错的时候，贝丝又笑着说道：“难怪你没能大学毕业，因为你连认字都认不好！”……她笑得厉害，饱含蔑视之意，但她是唯一在笑的人。
卡尔懒得理她。他只是一脸茫然地看着我们。然后他很伤心地耸耸肩，扭头看别的地方了。
那个晚上余下的时间，都是贝丝一个人在高谈阔论。她对卡尔所说所做的每一件事情都吹毛求疵，气氛也越来越让人透不过气来了。当时我在想，当我指责罗恩时，我弟弟是不是也是这种感觉呢？
与贝丝和卡尔道了别，我们默默地离开了餐厅。坐上车之后，我先说话了，“我说起话来是不是很像贝丝？”我问罗恩。
“你没那么坏。”罗恩说。 “那我有多坏？”我追问道。 “挺坏的。”罗恩轻声说。
第二天早上，我把水倒进咖啡壶的时候，看了印有“每日经文姊妹篇”的日历。
上面写着：
想到这里，我突然醒悟过来，意识到没过滤的咖啡其实就像我口无遮拦说出的话一样！它们都让人难以接受！
于是，我跟神祷告说：“神啊，请在我的大脑和嘴之间安个过滤器吧。帮助我想好了怎么说再开口。帮助我说话时语气能够平和甘美。也谢谢你用‘咖啡过滤纸’的教训来教导我，我不会忘记的。”
一个小时之后，罗恩很胆怯地问我：“把沙发挪到窗户旁边怎么样？那样就能更好地看电视了。”
我脑海里浮现的第一个想法是：“这主意真是太蠢了！要知道挪到阳光直射的地方，沙发是会褪色的！还有，你已经看太多电视了，还想怎么样？
但是我没有像往常一样，着急回答他，我把这些粗燥的想法先放在我新安的“过滤器”里过滤了一下，然后微笑着对他说：“听起来好像不错。挪过去几天，再看看我们喜不喜欢，我帮你挪吧。”
他目瞪口呆地抬起了沙发的一边。一个动作就把沙发放好，然后很担心地问我：“你还好吗？不头疼吗？”
我轻声笑了，说道：“我很好，亲爱的。简直没有比现在更好过。我给你倒杯咖啡吧。”
最近，我和罗恩庆祝了第27个结婚纪念日，我很高兴地向我的读者们汇报：我的过滤器还在！虽然有时候会漏，但是它还在。我也把这个过滤器原则用到了婚姻之外的地方。当我和电话销售员、交警，还有十几岁的孩子说话时，这个过滤器格外管用。
作者：南茜·安德森 Nancy C. Anderson 文章出处：家庭生活 jiatingshenghuo.com
I Am Woman. Hear Me Roar?By Nancy C. Anderson
A woman's tongue has the power to build up or tear down her marriage.
"Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord, keep watch at the door of my lips" (Psalm 141:3 NIV)"We are the master of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out" ~Winston Churchill~My brother Dan said, "I'm going home! Your bickering is driving me nuts. Your constant fighting's more irritating than chewing on tinfoil!"
I defended our behavior, "Hey, it's not like we disagree about everything. Ron and I agree on all the major issues. We hardly ever fight about "big stuff" like how to spend our money, how to raise Nick, or who's a better driver (me). It's just the little stuff that gets to us."
He sighed and said, "Well, I'm sick of hearing you go to war over where to put the towel rack, which TV shows to watch, or who left the lights on. It's all dumb stuff. None of it will matter a year from now. Why did you have to criticize the way he mowed the lawn? I know it wasn't perfect, but couldn't you just let it go?"
"No," I replied, "We are having company tomorrow, and I want the yard to be perfect. So I told him to fix it, big deal! We were married in the seventies, and Helen Ready told me that I had to roar if I wanted to be heard, so I roar—and it works, because he re-mowed the lawn and I won."
Dan paused, shook his head, and said, "If you keep this up, you may win the arguments but lose your husband."
I smacked him on the arm and said, "Oh, stop being so melodramatic!"
The next evening, Ron and I went out to dinner with some friends we hadn't seen in several years. We remembered Carl as being funny and outgoing, but he seemed rather sad and looked exhausted. His wife, Beth, did most of the talking. She told us about her fabulous accomplishments at work and endlessly bragged about her brilliant, Mensa-bound children.
She didn't mention her husband, except to criticize him.
After we ordered our dinner, she said, "Carl, I saw you flirting with that waitress!" (He wasn't.)
"Caarrrrlll," she whined, "can't you do anything right?" You are holding your fork like a little kid!" (He was.)
When he mispronounced an item on the desert menu, his wife said, "No wonder you flunked out of college, you can't read!" She laughed so hard—she snorted—but she was the only one laughing.
Carl didn't even respond. He just looked over at us with an empty face and a blank stare. Then he shrugged his sad shoulders and looked away.
The rest of the evening was even more oppressive as she continued to harangue and harass him about almost everything he said or did. I thought, I wonder if this is how my brother feels when I criticize Ron.
We said goodbye to Beth and Carl and left the restaurant in silence. When we got in the car, I spoke first, "Do I sound like her?"
Ron said, "You're not that bad."
I asked, "How bad am I?"
"Pretty bad," he half whispered.
The next morning, as I poured water into the coffee pot, I looked over at my "Scriptures for Wives" calendar. "The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands." Or with her own mouth, I thought.
"A nagging wife annoys like a constant dripping." How did I turn into such a nag?
"Set a guard, oh Lord, over my mouth." Oh, please show me how!
I carefully spooned the vanilla nut de-caf into to the pot, as I remembered the day I forgot the filter. The coffee was bitter and full of undrinkable grounds. I had to throw it away.
Then it dawned on me, The coffee, without filtering, is like my coarse and bitter speech.
I said, "Oh God, please install a filter between my brain and my mouth. Help me to choose my words carefully and speak in smooth and mellow tones. Thank you for teaching me the 'Lesson of the Coffee Filter.' I won't forget it."
An hour later, Ron timidly asked, "What do you think about moving the couch over by the window? We'll be able to see the TV better."
My first thought was to tell him, That's a dumb idea! The couch will fade if you put it in the sunlight and besides, you already watch too much TV.
But instead of my usual hasty reply, I let the coarse thoughts drip through my newly installed filter and smiled as I said, "That might be a good idea, let's try it for a few days and see if we like it. I'll help you move it!"
He lifted his end of the sofa in stunned silence. Once we had it in place, he asked with concern, "Are you OK? Do you have a headache?"
I chuckled, "I'm great honey, never better. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
Ron and I recently celebrated our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary, and I'm happy to report that my "filter" is still in place—although it occasionally springs a leak! I've also expanded the filter principal beyond my marriage, and I have found it amazingly useful when I speak to telemarketers, traffic cops, and teenagers.
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