I heard about a man who loved dogs. One day he decided to pour a new sidewalk in front of his house. His neighbor watched from his window as he smoothed out the last bit of cement. Just then, a large dog appeared and walked through the fresh cement, leaving paw prints behind. The man muttered something under his breath while smoothing over the damage in the concrete. He went into his garage to get some twine so he could put up a fence around the sidewalk. When he got back outside he found more dog tracks in the cement. Again, he smoothed out the cement for a second time and put up the fence. He then went into the house to get something to drink. Thirty minutes later he looked outside and the dog was back at it. He got out his trowel and smoothed the cement once more. This time he waited on his porch for the dog to reappear and sure enough he did. The dog sat down on his newly poured sidewalk. The man went inside, grabbed a can of pepper spray and sprayed the dog. The neighbor rushed over and asked, “Why did you do that? I thought you loved dogs.” The man said, “I like dogs, but in the abstract. I don’t like dogs in the concrete.” We are sort of like that with the idea of forgiveness. When it comes to forgiving others, we must get beyond forgiving others in the abstract (See Ephesians 4:31-32).
Comments are closed.