The basic question is: How does one lovingly
decline to disingenuously or profligately promise—to make empty promises? The answer is in the question itself for one
can never make empty promises when true, humble love is the engine of a
relationship. The ultimate source of
insincere promises is self-love. An
empty promise is designed to bolster one’s own popularity and standing rather
than to meet the most basic needs and desires of others. Ironically, a sense of reliable security and
foundational love is generated more from an honest acknowledgement of
limitations than from a prideful inability to admit them. Telling others
whatever in the short-term pleases them (or as the Bible says tickles their
ears) when in fact uncertainly or infeasibility actually prevails will in the long
run create resentment and cynicism, and even worse, bring into question the genuineness
of one’s love and commitment. As
relationships with others should not include empty promises, neither should
self-dialogue include them. Making empty
promises to oneself will in the long run undermine one’s self-concept. A track record of realized commitments
underwrites tenable self-confidence while a record of failed unrealistic commitments
undercuts it. So, how should we respond when there is immense pressure to
over-promise? We should acknowledge the
strong desires and wishes of others without pandering to them with empty
promises. One can say, for example, to a
child who wants to go to Disney World when the family budget will not allow it:
“We can’t afford it son, and I’m sorry, for I know how much a visit would mean
to you. Space Mountain would be totally
awesome. Maybe someday we can go
depending on how good business is, but we just can’t now.” How preferable this is to caving in to
pressure and making a flippant promise to go in the summer, then reneging on that
promise. The first shows love of the
son, the second shows a selfish desire to be popular and liked at the cost of
respect, honesty, and even familial love itself.
