What the IRS Lady Taught Me About Family in Under 2 Minutes

After months of avoiding reality, I had to call the IRS and I was a ball of nerves. I run my own business for all things writing, website building, and nonprofit consulting related, and that means I have to pay my own taxes. Unfortunately, the government in the US doesn’t seem to be set up for that. So things get wonky and I get confused and have to call IRS from time to time.

On this particular day, I had extra anxiety about the whole thing and really needed someone to be gentle with me.

When the IRS lady took me off of hold and gave me her ID number, I could tell by the tone of her voice she wasn’t going to be gentle.

I’m not quite sure how a person can be snarky and rude with a simple “hi”, but this lady had a knack for it.

So I explained what I needed with as few words as possible. But since I’m a wordy person, I clearly said the wrong thing. She wanted to transfer me to another department. I had to politely disagree with her because I knew the other department was the wrong place for me to get help.

She wasn’t having it.

Then, I hit a moment in the conversation that felt all too familiar to me – the one where my blood starts to boil, my voice gets shrill, and my own snarkiness starts showing up to the party.

More than anything, I wanted to tell her to shut her mouth and listen to me because I really needed her help.

But I was really tired that day and I wondered if she was, too.

I had had a long week, and I didn’t want a fight.

So, after two rounds of trying to get my point across, I resigned myself to being transferred to the other department and said thank you. But after hearing the wait time for the other department was 60-90 minutes long, I hung up and emailed an accountant instead.

Normally something like this would make me really angry.

More delays.

More stress.

Nothing accomplished.

All of a sudden though, as I replayed the conversation in my mind, I realized something: that lady was human just like me. Maybe she was having a hard week too.

Immediately, I was glad I hadn’t told her what she should do with all of her snarky comments.

I was glad I hadn’t called her a smart ass, too.

Instead, I felt an urge to pray for her, thinking about what her week might have been like, what challenges she might be facing, and asking for an extra blessing to be sent her way.

Now before you roll your eyes and think I’m trying to be some holy roly whatever, let me clarify.

I have no idea why the thought of her humanity came to mind for me in that moment.

To be honest, it probably had more to do with the personal development books I’m reading right now than the condition of my heart.

But whatever caused the revelation, it was a big one.

In that moment, I couldn’t help but remember how many times I forget that we’re all humans – especially the humans in my family.

My dad says an off-handed smart comment in jest and I instantly start spewing about how he doesn’t understand.

My kids disagree with something I tell them to do and I fly off the handle about respecting elders.

My husband takes time to do something he loves and I instantly become a martyr, fuming about how someone has to wash the dishes.

In less than two minutes, that IRS lady had taught me something about family togetherness – it’s covered with skin, it’s bathed in humanity, and it’s bound to be less than perfect.

Sometimes my son is stressed, so he’s going to want to spend more time in his room and less time with me.

Some days my dad is dealing with feelings I can’t even imagine, so he’s not thinking about how his words hit me.

Sometimes my husband is battling something he doesn’t have words for, so he might not want to talk about all of my hopes and dreams.

Some nights my sister is feeling tired and stressed and stretched too thin, so she might not want to joke around on the phone.

Sometimes I’m dealing with mom guilt, haven’t taken care of myself well, have worked too hard, haven’t slept enough, or I’m just sick of doing laundry every day, so I don’t show my kids how much I love them every single moment.

Just because we don’t understand why someone is being short, rude, or snarky doesn’t mean they don’t need love.

Also, things change.

Moods shift.

Clouds part.

I might call that same IRS phone number today and get that same IRS lady and have a completely different experience. She might have had a really good night’s sleep next time or a delicious coffee and scone right before she picks up my call and she might really be able to help me.

I think I’ll start by asking her name next time.

So, if you’re skimming for the short version, it’s this ⤵

Don’t forget to make room for your family’s humanity.

Make allowances for it.

Find grace for it.

They don’t have to clean up their own crumbs at the table every single time.

Or make their bed every single day.

They don’t even have to wear pants if it’s been an especially hard week.

Don’t forget they’re human.

And don’t forget you’re human, too.

We’re mom humans. We make mistakes and assumptions.

We have fears and desires.

Our scars sometimes show up brighter than our dreams.

We carry burdens and we strive.

We struggle to accept our own greatness.

We often choose to ignore the fact that there are only 24 hours in every day and we can’t get it all done.

And that’s okay.

There’s so much we can give our families despite, or maybe even because of, our humanity.

I’m going to try to remember that, hoping I don’t have to call the IRS every week to learn the lesson over and over again.

What about you? What makes you remember your family’s humanity?

Hop into the email group and join the discussion. I’d love to see you there.