The Fence Post My Neighbor Moved Six Inches onto My Side
The Fence Post My Neighbor Moved Six Inches onto My Side
RedeemedExistence daily devotional, October 13, 2026
I noticed it on a Saturday morning while I was dragging the trash cans back from the curb, the new fence post standing a good six inches past the old survey stake, a stake I know is accurate because I paid a surveyor two hundred dollars to confirm it when we bought the place. Six inches. Not a foot, not a property line war worth a lawyer, just six inches of grass that technically belongs to me now sitting on his side of a brand new post he installed without ever knocking on my door. I stood there with an empty trash can in each hand and felt something rise in my chest that had nothing to do with grass and everything to do with being treated like I do not matter enough to ask.
I am seven years sober, and I used to settle disagreements like that one with my fists or my silence, whichever felt more satisfying in the moment. What surprised me standing at that fence line was how fast the old reflex still showed up, the drafting of a furious text in my head before I had even walked back inside, every sentence engineered to wound just enough to feel justified later. I did not send it. I want to be honest that not sending it felt less like virtue and more like barely winning a fight I should not have been fighting with myself in the first place.
Scripture does not treat that kind of conflict as a minor social friction to be managed with better manners. James names two entirely different sources a person can draw from when a dispute shows up, and he is not subtle about which one was trying to write my text message. "But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy" (James 3:17, NKJV). Willing to yield. I read that phrase standing by the fence and realized I had already decided, before any conversation happened, that yielding even an inch would mean losing.
Solomon knew exactly what my drafted text was going to accomplish before I ever sent it. "A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" (Proverbs 15:1, NKJV). I have tested the other half of that proverb plenty of times in my life, the version where a harsh word meets a harsh word and the whole thing escalates into something neither man actually wanted. Paul does not tell the Ephesians that anger itself is the sin. He gives it a curfew instead. "Be angry, and do not sin: do not let the sun go down on your wrath, nor give place to the devil" (Ephesians 4:26-27, NKJV). I have let plenty of suns go down on plenty of wrath in my life, and the devil has never once needed a second invitation to move into that opening.
Here is where my own reasoning let me down at that fence line, the same way it always has. I could tell myself accurately that I was in the right, that six inches is six inches, that a reasonable neighbor would have asked first. Every sentence was true, and none of it was going to fix anything, because being right was never actually the problem I needed solved. Jesus places reconciliation ahead of worship itself, which tells me how seriously He takes an unresolved grudge sitting between two men. "Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matthew 5:23-24, NKJV). I was not bringing any gift to any altar that Saturday, but I was planning on sitting in church the next morning with that fence still unresolved in my chest, and Jesus does not seem to think those two things coexist as easily as I wanted them to.
This is exactly what abiding in the Spirit gives that my own sense of justice never could. Paul tells the Romans the actual scope of what is being asked, narrower and harder than I wanted it to be. "If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men" (Romans 12:18, NKJV). As much as depends on me, not on him moving the post back first. Paul tells the Colossians what that peace actually costs, and it is not a clever argument won on the merits. "Bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do" (Colossians 3:13, NKJV). Bearing with, not settling the score. None of that comes from a sharper argument. It comes from staying connected to a Source that produces a kind of peace my own thinking was never built to manufacture. Jesus said it as plainly as He said anything. "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing" (John 15:4-5, NKJV). I was trying to bear the fruit of peace off a branch that had quietly disconnected itself from the vine somewhere between the trash cans and the fence post.
I walked over Sunday afternoon instead of sending anything, and told my neighbor I had noticed the post and would appreciate it getting moved back when he had a chance. He apologized, said his guy had measured wrong, and it was done by Tuesday. I will not pretend every conflict resolves that easily. God is alive tonight, and He already knows exactly which six inches you are standing over right now, which grudge you are nursing because being right feels safer than being reconciled. He has a plan for you that was never contingent on winning the argument, and He has told you Himself that He will never leave you to fight it alone. "Abide in Me, and I in you" (John 15:4, NKJV). Stay close to the vine, and let Him grow the peace in you that your own reasoning never could.
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Scriptures used (NKJV): James 3:17; Proverbs 15:1; Ephesians 4:26-27; Matthew 5:23-24; Romans 12:18; Colossians 3:13; John 15:4-5.
RedeemedExistence daily devotional, October 13, 2026
I noticed it on a Saturday morning while I was dragging the trash cans back from the curb, the new fence post standing a good six inches past the old survey stake, a stake I know is accurate because I paid a surveyor two hundred dollars to confirm it when we bought the place. Six inches. Not a foot, not a property line war worth a lawyer, just six inches of grass that technically belongs to me now sitting on his side of a brand new post he installed without ever knocking on my door. I stood there with an empty trash can in each hand and felt something rise in my chest that had nothing to do with grass and everything to do with being treated like I do not matter enough to ask.
I am seven years sober, and I used to settle disagreements like that one with my fists or my silence, whichever felt more satisfying in the moment. What surprised me standing at that fence line was how fast the old reflex still showed up, the drafting of a furious text in my head before I had even walked back inside, every sentence engineered to wound just enough to feel justified later. I did not send it. I want to be honest that not sending it felt less like virtue and more like barely winning a fight I should not have been fighting with myself in the first place.
Scripture does not treat that kind of conflict as a minor social friction to be managed with better manners. James names two entirely different sources a person can draw from when a dispute shows up, and he is not subtle about which one was trying to write my text message. "But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy" (James 3:17, NKJV). Willing to yield. I read that phrase standing by the fence and realized I had already decided, before any conversation happened, that yielding even an inch would mean losing.
Solomon knew exactly what my drafted text was going to accomplish before I ever sent it. "A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" (Proverbs 15:1, NKJV). I have tested the other half of that proverb plenty of times in my life, the version where a harsh word meets a harsh word and the whole thing escalates into something neither man actually wanted. Paul does not tell the Ephesians that anger itself is the sin. He gives it a curfew instead. "Be angry, and do not sin: do not let the sun go down on your wrath, nor give place to the devil" (Ephesians 4:26-27, NKJV). I have let plenty of suns go down on plenty of wrath in my life, and the devil has never once needed a second invitation to move into that opening.
Here is where my own reasoning let me down at that fence line, the same way it always has. I could tell myself accurately that I was in the right, that six inches is six inches, that a reasonable neighbor would have asked first. Every sentence was true, and none of it was going to fix anything, because being right was never actually the problem I needed solved. Jesus places reconciliation ahead of worship itself, which tells me how seriously He takes an unresolved grudge sitting between two men. "Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matthew 5:23-24, NKJV). I was not bringing any gift to any altar that Saturday, but I was planning on sitting in church the next morning with that fence still unresolved in my chest, and Jesus does not seem to think those two things coexist as easily as I wanted them to.
This is exactly what abiding in the Spirit gives that my own sense of justice never could. Paul tells the Romans the actual scope of what is being asked, narrower and harder than I wanted it to be. "If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men" (Romans 12:18, NKJV). As much as depends on me, not on him moving the post back first. Paul tells the Colossians what that peace actually costs, and it is not a clever argument won on the merits. "Bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do" (Colossians 3:13, NKJV). Bearing with, not settling the score. None of that comes from a sharper argument. It comes from staying connected to a Source that produces a kind of peace my own thinking was never built to manufacture. Jesus said it as plainly as He said anything. "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing" (John 15:4-5, NKJV). I was trying to bear the fruit of peace off a branch that had quietly disconnected itself from the vine somewhere between the trash cans and the fence post.
I walked over Sunday afternoon instead of sending anything, and told my neighbor I had noticed the post and would appreciate it getting moved back when he had a chance. He apologized, said his guy had measured wrong, and it was done by Tuesday. I will not pretend every conflict resolves that easily. God is alive tonight, and He already knows exactly which six inches you are standing over right now, which grudge you are nursing because being right feels safer than being reconciled. He has a plan for you that was never contingent on winning the argument, and He has told you Himself that He will never leave you to fight it alone. "Abide in Me, and I in you" (John 15:4, NKJV). Stay close to the vine, and let Him grow the peace in you that your own reasoning never could.
---
Scriptures used (NKJV): James 3:17; Proverbs 15:1; Ephesians 4:26-27; Matthew 5:23-24; Romans 12:18; Colossians 3:13; John 15:4-5.
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