For me it was 2 weeks ago, panic-stricken facing Mr. Snake eye-to-eye, no-hiss -to- no-hiss. He, or it, was on the floor under the utility sink in our basement. I chose to let hubby take care of the feared-one, after he arrived home from work. But by the time he arrived, Mr. Slitherer had disappeared. We looked everywhere, but no snake was to be found. A week later, Done Right Handyman couldn't find the snake either when he came to fix the leaking basement sink.
Why didn't I take care of the problem when I could have?? Now, Mr. Sneak (yes, sneak) could be under the water heater, or in a box; actually, he could even climb up our steps to reach warmer surroundings, and be anywhere!
The day of reckoning finally came. I was searching, for our lost red file folder, in the dreaded basement, only in covered boxes because I thought Mr. Snake couldn't slink into them. That tells you how desperate I am to find that red folder, because I was back in the same basement, not for a brief visit but for an extended period of time. Where Mr. Snake was last spotted 2 weeks ago.
The first box contained only books. The second box, the same. And the third. And the fourth. We moved more books than I realized! Then, I turned around.
Just a foot away, in other words 12 inches, on the bottom shelf of our Rubbermaid shelving unit, in an uncovered box, he was somewhat coiled. My insides wanted to burst. I wanted to scream, "Help!!!" but only me, myself, and I would reply. I wanted to run upstairs and let hubby take care of the 911, later. But that tactic didn't work 2 weeks ago.
I had a second chance. It was do-over time. I was face-to-face with the enemy and would not run away, lest he slither to hide elsewhere. Self-talk works: "You can do it. God, help me! Be strong! But how? Think!!!! The box is heavy, and you don't want to hurt yourself, not before your big adventure next week!" Desperate times call for desperate measures.
After about 5 minutes of hysteric problem-solving and positive self-talk, plus text encouragement from hubby, I stepped closer to the box to cautiously remove what I thought was the heaviest item in the box. Then, with adrenaline on my side, up the stairs, fast; through the living room, fast; out the front door, fast; plop down and empty the box, fast (whoa, didn't realize our heavy circular saw was still in the box); and, the easy part, use a stick, to carry Mr. Unwelcome into any house of mine for any reason, ever, to fling him, to grasses ever far away from the front door.
I text my family to brag on snake-handling skills. Our "Little" quickly FaceTimes to hear about the adventure; she sees my hair in total disarray, like a madwoman. I tell her the snake was thrown far away from the front door, so it wouldn't come back. Her quick response? "...so it can slither into someone else's house ... " (synchorized giggles).
I had a second chance. It was do-over time. I was face-to-face with the enemy and would not run away, lest he slither to hide elsewhere. Self-talk works: "You can do it. God, help me! Be strong! But how? Think!!!! The box is heavy, and you don't want to hurt yourself, not before your big adventure next week!" Desperate times call for desperate measures.
After about 5 minutes of hysteric problem-solving and positive self-talk, plus text encouragement from hubby, I stepped closer to the box to cautiously remove what I thought was the heaviest item in the box. Then, with adrenaline on my side, up the stairs, fast; through the living room, fast; out the front door, fast; plop down and empty the box, fast (whoa, didn't realize our heavy circular saw was still in the box); and, the easy part, use a stick, to carry Mr. Unwelcome into any house of mine for any reason, ever, to fling him, to grasses ever far away from the front door.
I text my family to brag on snake-handling skills. Our "Little" quickly FaceTimes to hear about the adventure; she sees my hair in total disarray, like a madwoman. I tell her the snake was thrown far away from the front door, so it wouldn't come back. Her quick response? "...so it can slither into someone else's house ... " (synchorized giggles).
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| Nice cursive, Mr. Snake |
How will we respond?
(I Peter 5:8)
