Trash day is Monday in my neighborhood. Every-other Monday the city picks up recyclable materials. These are the days I find interesting. No, I don’t go through my neighbor’s recyclables to find what they are throwing away. Neither do I take great pains to ensure every piece of paper, plastic, and glass make it into the little blue bin.
No, the interesting thing is my dog. When he hears the truck coming down the street, he whines and barks until someone lets him outside. Once outside, he barks at the workers until the truck is well down the street. I have asked myself why. Why does he bark at the workers collecting recyclables?
I find myself imagining what he could be thinking. He doesn’t bark at people walking down the street, unless they have a dog with them or they come too close to the yard. I imagine his territorial alarm is going off. Is he telling the workers, “Put our stuff down!” Does he think they are thieves, stealing stuff people have left out at the curb?
It’s fun to imagine what an animal might be thinking. I’m sure I am often wrong in my imaginative thoughts. The problems come when I do the same thing to people. I think I know what a person is thinking, but I can’t know what a person is thinking any more than I can know what a dog is thinking. Yet, sometimes, I am so sure of myself (or should I say “full of myself”?), I make assumptions about what I think I know. I could ask. They could lie. Whatever I think, I’m sure it is either more or less complicated than I have made it in my mind.
Perhaps, the best thing is to drop the assumptions. After all, we’ve all made mistakes. We all have things we bark at that make little or no sense. The Apostle Paul made an assumption about John Mark (Acts 16:36-39), but later, he decided he was wrong (2 Timothy 4:11). After assuming John Mark was of no use in ministry, he asks for him by name, saying, “…he will be helpful to me in my ministry.” Sometimes, I am a dog, barking at the garbage collector. I’m better when I’m willing to give someone another chance.