I try to read a daily reflection in the early mornings, and the one today struck a heart chord. It reminded me of a question I’d learned in counseling that played a key role in healing my marriage. We’ve been together 50 years now. The first few decades had their ups as well as significant downs, rifts that widened over time. We both worked hard to heal those rifts so we could connect in healthy ways, allowing love to rekindle. The question I learned became a valued nugget that we continue to mine. It helps keep our hearts safe and open toward each other when tensions rise.

The question is: “What do you need?”. Let me tell you how I learned it.

During a session with a counselor, he showed me a Conflict Chart he used with his clients. I don’t remember all the details, but the gist of it stuck. The single page had a box at the top labeled ‘Conflict.’ A column of additional boxes cascaded down the left and right sides, separated into steps, like ladder rungs. The left side boxes showed the increasingly negative steps where anger, resentment, and loathing grew. The right side boxes showed the positive steps leading to feelings of safety, connection, and love. The counselor explained that people usually choose the left side of the chart without thinking. They react out of habit. He emphasized that a person has a choice in any argument about which path they will follow.

Words like loathing and love might sound like extreme results of an argument, but that’s not been my experience. When we first married, I’d normally choose the left side negative steps in an argument. If unresolved, the feelings settled into anger and frustration. They didn’t devolve into resentment or loathing. But the unresolved arguments repeated over and over pushed the emotions toward those extremes. The few times I slowed down long enough to try and hear the other person, it felt like enticing licks from an ice cream cone. I wanted more of that ‘lick’ of connection. And if I managed to stay on the positive side over a period of time, a small space opened for love to grow.

Which brings me back to the reflection I’d read and why it resonated with me. It told the story of a couple driving someplace at night when a heated argument ended in silence. The husband glared at the road ahead, hands tight on the steering wheel. The wife leaned away, stared out the window into the dark, lost in what to do. She knew she could continue arguing, trying to prove she was right, but to what end? It had never worked before. Instead, with her forehead against the cold glass, she prayed for wisdom. It came in unexpected words. She turned and looked at her husband and said softly, “I think God wants me to encourage you more.” Those words and her attitude of humility broke the ice, allowing them to move toward each other.

She didn’t ask the question, “what do you need?”. Yet she knew her husband well enough and what was underlying his silence that her words answered the unspoken question. Her desire to reconcile and not repeat the same unresolved argument again allowed the man to soften. It would not have worked if she had spoken with any sense of a defensive tone or slight of anger.

It took time for me to understand the weight and power of the question “What do you need?”.  Why would that question be any different than other trying-to-end-the-conflict responses? Retorts such as, “Can’t we agree to disagree?” (and staying ‘right’). Or “Let’s talk about this later” (hoping they would forget the disagreement). Or “Fine, whatever you say” (a dismissal of the other person’s concerns).

Thinking of those retorts or another one you might use, have they worked out for you? Do you feel better afterward? Is the disagreement resolved and feelings abated? Since those responses are a way to leave the argument, did you go back later and try to process it? Or did it get added to a growing unresolved pile? The put-off-until-later words do nothing to close the chasm between the two of you. They only widen and deepen it. Sadly, I’ve used versions of those responses over the years. They all invariably increased separation, not connection. They hardened my position and feelings towards the other, not softened them. And as they accumulated over time, they began to fester inside.

The question I learned became a valued nugget that we continue to mine. It helps keep our hearts safe and open toward each other when tensions rise.

It’s so easy to travel down the left side of the chart. To default to habitual responses takes little effort. Over time it builds an internal fortress, a place to remain safe or superior, fortifying the walls with every argument. Yet the festering of never-resolved arguments chip away at intimacy until none remains.

Still, there is hope! It takes hard work and requires a humble attitude and an open hand towards the other person. It will not be healed with a few arguments done the right way. It may take months or more of determined effort, fueled by care and love for the other person.

It means you stop thinking only of yourself and try to understand the other person. It says you feel secure enough in yourself to keep the negative feelings at bay and risk opening up to the other person. It doesn’t erase what you are experiencing. Instead, it overcomes it with the more important need and desire to restore the relationship. I’ve found that every time I’ve asked that question, the other person felt safe enough to say what was on their heart. It still surprises me how my so important issues recede once I hear what’s really bothering the other person.

It felt unnatural and risky asking the question the first several times. Even now, when I get into a growing disagreement with my wife, it takes a moment to recognize what’s happening. I have to restrain my heated feelings and self-protections and ask, “What do you need?” Every time I do, the tension dissipates and, while she may not say what’s on her heart, the door is open.

And when she does speak her truth, sometimes with tears glistening, it’s pure gold.