The first time I read the book Nonviolent Communication,1 my heart raced. It wasn’t just a book—it felt like someone was handing me a flashlight in a room I didn’t know was dark. At its core, the message was simple, yet powerful: we can learn to speak and listen in ways that foster more compassionate connection, deeper understanding and greater relational closeness.
So often when we try to communicate, the truth gets buried beneath assumptions, expectations and judgements. For me personally, I tend to be my own worst critic, and it’s easy for me to get down on myself as an individual, a parent and a wife. But learning a new way to relate offered me something tangible and transformative: a practical path out of the judgement trap and into authentic connection.
One of the biggest barriers to meaningful communication is judgement—of both others and ourselves. Long before we say a word, we’ve often already made a snap judgement about someone’s appearance, voice, behaviour or choices. These judgements distort how we see someone and limit our ability to truly connect. The Bible speaks to this too and God reminds us again and again—leave the judging to Me.
What if, instead of judging, we simply observed? What if we instead let curiosity take the lead? Imagine stepping back and recognising life’s blessings rather than resenting our neighbour’s daily smoke break. Or offering a kind smile to a homeless person instead of looking away. But is it really possible to stop judging?
The Bible gives us a starting point: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Romans 12:2). Thanks to what we now know about neuroplasticity, we understand that transforming the mind is possible. Of course, this doesn’t mean we’ll wake up one day entirely free from the tendency to judge people—it’s a journey that requires intention, discipline, patience and maybe even a little bit of prayer. Here’s how that might look in practice.
step 1: observe without judgement
Start by observing what’s happening, without evaluating or labelling. For example, a judgement might sound like, “That’s a naughty kid yelling and running wildly away from his parents.” An observation, on the other hand, might be, “I see a child raising his voice and running the opposite direction from his parents.”
See the difference? The first statement triggers frustration. When we label children as “naughty”, we risk responding harshly or dismissively. But when we simply observe their behaviour, we open the door to understanding both the child’s needs and those of the parents.
step 2: identify feelings
Next, we state the feelings involved. Emotions are not enemies—they’re signals that something important is going on. Like warning lights on a car dashboard, they point us to deeper needs or concerns. In the earlier example, the child may be feeling angry, overwhelmed or unheard. The parents might feel frustrated, worried or exhausted. Naming these emotions doesn’t mean we’re ruled by them. Naming them helps us pause, reflect and respond with empathy instead of reactivity. It begins the process of self awareness and healing. And as we learn to identify emotions and connect them to unmet needs, we will begin to experience emotional liberation.
step 3: recognising needs
Under every emotion is an unmet need. In this case, the child might need freedom, movement or autonomy. While the parents might need cooperation, understanding or a moment of calm. When we acknowledge and honour everyone’s needs involved—not just our own—we create space for compassion instead of creating conflict.
step 4: making requests
Finally, we make clear, respectful, life-enriching requests. These are not demands, but invitations to collaborate. A good request is specific, actionable and open to negotiation. Sometimes it helps to ask, “What did you hear me say?” to ensure clarity.
Let’s return to our scenario and walk through this process:
Observation: A child is raising his voice and running away from his parents, who are shouting and chasing him.
Feelings: The child feels frustrated and sad. The parents feel overwhelmed and worried.
Needs: The child needs protected autonomy and activity. Parents need rest and safety for their child.
Request: The parents acknowledge their child’s emotions and unmet needs. Together, they brainstorm a compromise: five more minutes of running at the park, then a calm walk to the car and home to rest.
Will it always go smoothly? Of course not. But when we ground our interaction with truth and love, we create space for real connection instead of just trying to be in control. The Bible says, “Speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15), and that’s what helps relationships grow stronger. We have the opportunity to connect with and bless others in this lifetime. As we invite vulnerability from others and in return share authentically, defences will fall and hearts will open. How we talk to each other not only shapes our relationships—it shapes who we as individuals are becoming.
living the practice
Nonviolent communication isn’t just a tool for parenting or conflict resolution—it’s a daily invitation to see the people around us (and ourselves) through God’s eyes: with compassion, nuance and grace. It’s a practice of removing the log from our own eyes—not to fix others, but to see them more clearly.
When we trade judgement for observation, reactivity for reflection and demands for heartfelt requests, we make room for empathy and understanding. And in that space, we make room for God to work.
- Marshall B Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life. 3rd ed, PuddleDancer Press, 2015. ↩︎
