This morning I had one of those moments, one of those object lessons from God.
While en-route to meet friends at my son's new coffee shop, The Pressroom, in Bentonville, AR, I passed a house where a huge Doberman Pincher lives. Normally he has on one of those collars that keep him in his yard. But today he frolicked in the middle of the road. When he saw me approach he planted his paws and prepared to "stand me down." By his lifted lip and his stance I knew he growled a warning.
Of course I slowed down. This only served to make him bolder. He charged my car, alternately snapping at the tires and returning to the front barking, warning, and demonstrating his dominance of the road.
He had no idea that his display of power wasn’t what made me apply my brakes. Rather it was my kindness and patience with his ignorance. He had no way of comprehending that I was the one with the power. I could have continued on my without slowing down and knocked him off the road resulting in his death, or at the very least, severe injuries.
And that is when it happened. A light went off in my soul. For all the times I take a stance, bark my opinion, feel all powerful, it is the kindness and patience of God that waits until I'm all barked out and ready to listen, ready to be teachable, ready to repent from my error.