Skippy and "le chien"

Note: I have full permission from a friend of mine to tell this story but as to spare him undue attention, I have elected not to share his true name. Instead I shall call him . . . "Skippy". . .

Several years ago a good friend (named Skippy) came up to me one day and asked to talk to me privately. He confessed to me that the night before he had accidentally hit and killed a neighbors dog with his car. What was worse is that Skippy and the family of the dog were quite close and he knew that they were devastated by the loss. He had asked a deacon in the church what to do and the deacon told him not to confess it - why make the pain worse for himself and the family? Obviously feeling guilty he asked me what I thought he should do. I took a deep breath and gave him my thoughts:

"Skippy," I said compassionately but firmly, "You've got to tell them the truth. The thing is that while it will be painful to do so, waiting until they find out about it later will make it much painful. The longer you wait to confess, the worse it gets. They will feel deceived and eventually they will find out - this is a small town after all. I know you are terrified of ruining your relationship with these people but it was an accident and putting off telling them will turn a bad thing into a terrible thing. You've got to tell them.

Skippy thanked me for my counsel but I could tell I had not given him the answer he was looking for. He agreed that my advice was good, but he wasn't sure if he could do it it. Sure enough when I asked him a week later he still hadn't confessed. And then it became a month. Often I would inquire about it by asking how things were going with "le chien" (my little code word for the incident). This was always sure to get a bad reaction out of him. One time the words le chien had just left my mouth and he told me to shut up! Obviously the stress of his unconfessed actions was getting to him. After a while I decided our friendship was more important so I stopped torturing him in this way and mostly forgot about it. Eventually the family did find out about Skippy's dog killing, but not in the way I had thought they would - Skippy himself confessed to them. Finally, after three years, he finally couldn't take it any more. The guilt was killing him to be sure, but the worse part was the loss of relationship.

I ran into Skippy recently and he related to me the whole story again. For three years he had hardly connected at all with these friends that had been very dear to them. He avoided them - and his need to confess. Finally when he told them, some were quite angry. Not as much for the act of vehicular canine homicide, but for the fact that he had essentially deceived them and then ignored them for three years. It took awhile but they finally forgave him. Although he can laugh about it now, the whole thing really did traumatize Skippy. He admitted to me that while telling me the story, many years later, he was shaking.

I stand by my advice - tell people the truth after you mess up. Maybe you've lied to someone, maybe you've cheated on your partner, maybe you've stolen something. When we do these things we can think of a million reasons not to to tell the person we've harmed. "I'm different now," "it will only make things worse," "it will hurt them to much," or even "it would do too much damage to my church/marriage/company/friendship, etc." But secrets like these are poison to relationships and eventually they will come out. In fact, I hope they do - a lifetime of relationship with such secrets is just a charade, and it is terribly unsatisfying and guilt-producing. Jesus said the truth will set us free - so take some courage pills and go tell that person the secret you've been holding onto. Even if they react poorly, you've done the right thing and the relief to your conscience will be beautiful indeed. Just ask Skippy.

May Light increase!