Fences

One of my favorite things about growing up around old country preachers is they could tell a story that would have you laughing one minute and under conviction the next. Years ago, my pastor told me one that I've never forgotten. I don't know whether he intended it to become one of my favorite illustrations or not, but it has stayed with me for years.

There was a fellow in our area who held a pretty important public position. Because of his job, a few threats had been made against him, so someone arranged for him to have a professionally trained protection dog. This wasn't your average house pet that barked at squirrels and chased the UPS truck. This was the canine version of a Navy SEAL. Calm. Disciplined. Obedient. He could sit quietly at public events with children petting him and never flinch. But if his owner gave one command...well...somebody was about to go home counting fingers instead of shaking hands.

When he wasn't at work, the dog stayed in the mans yard with one of those underground electric fences. You remember those. Before GPS collars and all the fancy gadgets, you'd bury a wire around the yard and put a special collar on the dog. If he crossed the line...ZAP! He'd get a reminder that the grass wasn't greener on the other side. Wish my parents would have had one of those on me for a few years in my early 20's.

My preacher lived next door and said every day he'd watch that magnificent German Shepherd stroll down next to the invisible boundary, stop within inches of it, sit down like a perfect soldier, and calmly watch the world go by. He knew exactly where that line was. Cars could pass. Kids could ride bicycles. Squirrels could perform acrobatics in the front yard. That dog wasn't crossing that fence.

Then one spring afternoon everything changed.

My preacher happened to be outside when an old female dog from the neighborhood wandered by.

Now she wasn't a champion show dog.

She didn't have papers.

But she was in heat.

The preacher said that old German Shepherd threw his nose in the air, took one sniff, and suddenly forgot every obedience lesson he'd ever learned.

The disciplined military professional disappeared.

What remained was a lovesick fool.

He started pacing.

Whining.

Circling.

Looking at the line of the fence.

Looking at her.

Looking back at the fence.

It was like watching a teenage boy trying to decide whether asking a girl to prom was worth the embarrassment.

Finally, he backed up about twenty feet like he was fixing to run the forty-yard dash at the NFL Combine.

My preacher said, "I knew exactly what was about to happen."

That dog came running full speed toward that invisible fence.

About halfway there he must've remembered what was waiting on him because he started yelping before he even got there. It was almost like he was saying, "This is gonna hurt...this is gonna hurt...this is gonna hurt..."

Then...ZAP!

Hair flew.

Feet flew.

Pride flew.

He made it through.

Now whether he ever won the heart of that old neighborhood sweetheart, I don't know. Maybe it became one of those Hallmark movies..."Military Dog Meets Girl from the Wrong Side of the Tracks." If they had puppies, I hope they had good manners and low expectations.

But I've laughed about that story for years because, if we're honest, we've all been that dog.

We know exactly where the fence is.

We know exactly what lies on the other side.

We even know it's going to hurt.

That's exactly what happened in David's family.

Second Samuel 13 tells the heartbreaking story of Amnon and Tamar. It didn't begin with an assault. It began with a look. That look became a fantasy. The fantasy became an obsession. The obsession turned into a plan. The plan became sin. And after the sin came shame, hatred, broken relationships, and eventually death.

Sin always promises more than it delivers.

James describes the process perfectly:

"But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death."James 1:14-15

Notice the order.

Nobody wakes up planning to destroy their marriage.

Nobody plans to wreck their testimony.

Nobody intends to lose their integrity.

It starts much smaller than that.

I once heard a man say that if he ever visited the Grand Canyon, he wasn't going to pitch his tent anywhere near the edge. His reasoning was simple: "At some point during the night, I'm bound to roll over." If he camped well back from the edge, rolling over wouldn't hurt him. But if he camped too close, one careless turn could cost him his life.

That's a good picture of the way many of us live. Sometimes we like to camp too close to danger. We convince ourselves we can handle it, that we'll never go too far. But when we choose to live on the edge of temptation, it only takes one wrong step, one weak moment, or one careless decision to experience consequences we never intended.

 1 Corinthians 10:12: "Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall."

I've often wondered how big the Garden of Eden really was. I’m not sure exactly. But I know one thing. If God told me there was one tree I wasn't supposed to eat from, I shouldn't be building my house beside it. I should build on the opposite side of the garden. Plant flowers over there. Raise chickens over there. Put my rocking chair over there. Stay as far away from that tree as I possibly could.

Yet that's exactly what many of us do spiritually.

God asks, "Why are you standing so close to the fence?"

If there's something that has the power to destroy your marriage, your family, your testimony, or your walk with Christ, don't see how close you can get.

Move the fence.

Better yet, move yourself.

Because one day, if you keep pacing that invisible boundary long enough, free will may convince you to take a running start.

And when you do, the shock won't just sting for a moment.

The consequences may last a lifetime.

Maybe that's why Jesus didn't simply tell us to resist temptation.

He taught us to pray,

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." (Matthew 6:13)

That's a prayer that says, "Lord, don't let me keep standing at the fence. Help me love You more than whatever is waiting on the other side."

Turns out that old German Shepherd wasn't the only one who needed to learn that lesson.

If we're honest...

Most of us have yelped all the way to the fence a few times ourselves.