by

Leo Crocker Rogers

A man robbed a bank. The bank was his friend’s concept of him. You see, he promised his friend something, and then he did not fulfill his promise. He may not have known that he lowered his account with his friend, but he surely did.

It occurred to me that the breaking of his promise to his friend may have been systemic of his actions with others, breaking promises here and there, now and then, again and again, saying he would do and then not do.

It happened to me – this promising and then not doing.

A policeman pulled me over for running a stop sign. I was within two blocks of my house and no one but a few neighbors traveled that way. I disputed his citation. He suggested that I look at the fence about ten feet away to my side as I stopped rather than looking out in front at the road. I grimaced and paid the ticket. About two months later, I passed that same direction and looked at the fence slats as I stopped. Sure enough the slats never stopped until I, with more purpose, clamped on the brakes.

When we promise to do something, be it to call a friend, to arrive early to help someone, to repay a debt owed, or to simply read the Bible every day as we promise ourselves, we need to come to a Full stop. We need to see the fence posts come to a halt. When we promise and then simply move on down the road, we feel good for the promise, but we are just sliding by. If we keep sliding, at some point, we will lose our friends, pay more tickets or late fees, and then begin to forget where we put our car keys.

On the road, others depend on us to stop at a stop sign. We have promised to do so, and for safety’s sake, we should keep our promise. Likewise, others depend on us to keep our word.

When we do not keep our promises (our word), we are robbing others of their esteem of us. Eventually, our account with them goes so low that they pity us. They begin to accommodate our weakness, even begin to "unlisten" to our every word. Our words fall like virga never to touch their mind or heart.

In the quiet of the night, be it in the still arid Arizona desert or in the foggy hills of West Virginia, it is said of us: "That dog won’t hunt."  And unfortunately, that is put in our friend's bank.