The Dog and The Dove, a parable

This parable was shared at bible study a few weeks back and I've reflected on it so many times.  It has helped me recognize that to get the Cujos (that crazy dog in that Stephen King movie years ago) out of my life, I have to stop feeding them.  When I get close, I literally tell myself, "Don't feed the dog, Ursula".

Let me tell you a little story that you'll never forget. Once upon a time there was a man who lived in a house all alone. He brought a stray puppy home with him one day to keep for company. The puppy grew and became big and mean.

Then one day a dove perched on the sill of his upstairs window and he fed it.

The dove became friendly and the man brought it inside to keep as a pet also. But the dog resented the presence of the dove and barked and leaped with jealous fury.

The man tried to keep the dove away from the dog but the dog kept barking at the dove every time he sensed its presence.

Finally, the man decided to get rid of the dog and keep the dove. But he couldn't get the dog to leave the house.

He tried everything . . . even bribing it out the door
with morsels of Meat . . . but nothing worked. He tried force, but the dog growled and snapped at him.

Finally, he decided to go to the professionals. He told the veterinarian his story and then asked him what to do. The professional said, "It's simple . . . get rid of the dove!"

The man returned to his house disappointed. As he placed the key in the lock of the front door, he heard a terrible commotion . . . the dog was yipping and barking. He quickly unlocked the door and ran into the house.

In the middle of the living room the dog was standing over the body of the dove! Feathers were everywhere! The wings of the dove were spread pitifully and there was blood.

The man leaped across the room kicking the dog in the side with all his might. The dog went rolling and
howling, scrambling for shelter under the table.

Tenderly the man picked the dove up from the floor. Its body was limp but he saw it was still breathing.

Carefully folding its wings he took it to the kitchen and began to care for it.

He then took the dove to another room and set food and water by it, closed the door and returned to the living room.

He looked into the eyes of the dog glaring from under the
table and said, "I'll get rid of you if it's the last thing I do!" He began to shout at the dog . . . "I've kept you and fed you . . . " There was a sudden and long silence. He froze with thought. Staring out the window, he said, "of course, why didn't I think of that before?"

He turned to the dog and said to the dog in a tone of great confidence, "Your days are numbered".

In a burst of glee he ran to the kitchen and opened wide the doors of the cupboards. He gathered all the dog food he could find in the cupboards and then went to the corner of the kitchen floor where the dog's dishes were, scooped them up, and threw it all in the trash.

He then went back to care for the dove.

After checking the dove he returned to the living room and stretched out in his easy chair to relax. He glared right at the dog, and said, "Now I am the master! You depend on me to feed you . . . and I have stopped."

The dog became hungry late that night and went to the kitchen and sniffed where his dishes had been.

There was no food for him.

The next day the man awakened with new peace in his heart. It seemed to him that the sun was shining for the first time in ages.

He heard the dog whining for food in the kitchen but paid no attention to him.

The dog whimpered and paced the floor as the man ate his breakfast. It took some self control but the man refused to give the dog a crumb. When he finished eating...he went in and fed the dove.

Day by day he noticed the dove was getting stronger...while the dog was getting weaker.

While he lost all concern for the dog, his care for the dove was meticulous!

Each day he fed the dove and starved the dog.

Each day the dove became stronger and the dog became weaker.

Finally . . . the day came.

He walked over the where the dog was laying and grabbed him by the collar. He dragged him across the room, over the threshold and out into the yard.

He returned to the house and fed the dove.

Today, the dove is well and flying around the house again.

The dog? Oh, he's adjusted to this life outside quite well.

The dog you see, is the flesh nature in me.

The dove, as you may know, is the Spirit that has come to dwell in me.

For you see . . . In every "me" there are two natures (Spirit and flesh). 

Am I nurturing the dog or the dove?  Do my inward affections reflect my outward actions?  What keeps me from meticulous care of my dove so that it's free flying around my home?  Where the dove is so free, so evident, so loved that a stray puppy would never draw me in to bring it home and feed it.