When We Don’t Have All the Information
- Lynsey Neilan

- Jul 28
- 3 min read
Have you ever convinced yourself someone was ignoring you—only to later realize they never even got the message?
Not long ago, I found myself in a situation where I felt certain someone was withholding something important from me. I had a few facts, and they pointed toward what looked like dishonesty. There was silence. Uncertainty. And the opinions of others that echoed what I was already beginning to believe.
But then the truth came to light—and it was nothing like I’d imagined.
The message hadn’t been received. The silence wasn’t intentional. And the person I was quietly beginning to distrust was actually doing the best they could with the information they had.
And it struck me how often we do this—not just with people, but with our dogs, too.
A dog doesn't respond to a command, and their owner gets angry because they assume their dog “should know better.”
The dog eats the tv remote when you tell them not to and you interpret their behavior as defiance even though they didn't understand a word you said when you yelled and wagged your finger.
We think they simply know all the rules even though we haven't made them clear.
We take things personally when they’re simply missing context or clarity. I can't tell you how many times dog owners have told me that their dog peed on their bed because they were mad at them when the more likely scenario is that the dog really had to go and was searching for you. Your smell is on your bed and your dog simply couldn't hold it anymore, so they went right there.
Why do we jump to the worst possible scenario instead of believing that animals and people are, I think, for the most part well-intentioned?
But how can a dog respond properly if they don’t fully understand what we’re asking? How can they make the right choice if we haven’t made the path clear?
The reality is, we often expect too much from those who don’t have the full picture—whether they’re humans or animals. And instead of leaning into curiosity or asking better questions, we jump to conclusions and assign blame.
Jesus once told His disciples:
“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3, NIV)
Children aren’t quick to judge. They ask questions. They watch. They marvel. They trust.
That childlike wonder is something we’re called to keep, not outgrow. It's how we grow in faith, how we stay open-hearted, and how we avoid the kind of bitterness that judgment breeds. It’s also how we build better relationships—with each other, with our animals, and with God.
This experience reminded me of that in the most personal way.
To slow down.
To ask questions.
To offer grace.
To assume innocence, not intention.
Because whether it’s a dog misunderstanding a command or a client misunderstanding a health concern, we’re all navigating life from different levels of knowledge, perspective, and experience.
Sometimes, what feels like defiance or deceit is actually confusion or a breakdown in communication.
And more often than not… a little grace goes a long way.
I hope that anyone—human or animal—I’ve ever misunderstood can forgive the moments where I reacted from assumption rather than understanding. We all do this from time to time. But with reflection, humility, and grace, we can learn to do better.





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