I was looking through some old journals this week looking for a poem I seem to have misplaced and came across this entry on June 6, 1993. My beloved Chips was a puppy. He's long gone now, but he left this lesson for us.
When I came home in the afternoon, I happened to reach over the top of Chips' cage, instead of standing in front of it, to open the door. Chips could see me through the side of the cage and was going crazy trying to get out to greet me, but of course, he couldn't get through the wire.
However, the door was wide open in back of him. In fact, he even had one foot and part of his back end hanging out.
It seems to me that this is a lot like people who are all caged up in whatever problems and sins they are facing. They are trying to find peace and love with the same desperation that Chips was trying to reach me for hugs and licks. (I did the hugging, he did the licking.)
But they want to do it in their own way, the impossible way of trying to do it in their own strength: to go through the wire.
The solution is clear, and it's free, and it's already been provided: the door is wide open. But they have to turn around and accept that fact. They have to realize that to accept God's gift of Jesus is the only way out of the cage.