We were standing on the carport one evening when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned just in time to push Keith out of the path of a garter snake determinedly chugging his way up the slope to the concrete slab. We called the dogs off and allowed him to meander under the mower and off the edge of the pad to the cool darkness under the porch. A few days later he made another appearance and we discovered his home when he wriggled away—the hollow pipes supporting the metal roofing of the carport.
I have come a long way in 35 years--from a city girl who screamed and ran from a foot long, pencil-thin, bright green garden snake to a country woman who understands the value of a snake on the property—God’s original mousetrap. I will never be a snake lover. I went out one afternoon and found him stretched out at the foot of my lounge chair. I got the broom and shooed him back into his pipe. My dogs can sit at my feet and have their heads scratched, but with Mr. Snake it is only a matter of “live and let live.”
Too many times we take that attitude with Satan. Yes, he is out there every day. Sometimes we even bump elbows in passing, but we don’t have to stop and politely say, “Excuse me.” Don’t give him a cool spot on the carport and an idle belly rub with your bare toes.
If this garter snake were one of the four poisonous varieties we have in this area—all of which we have seen on our land—he would not be tolerated. Although my guys may tell funny stories about me and snakes, they cannot deny that I know how to make like Annie Oakley when a bad one comes along. I have killed them with a shotgun, a .22 rifle, and a .22 pistol. I have killed them with rat shot and buckshot. When necessary I have used a shovel. I have lost count of how many poisonous snakes I have killed. They get fewer every year.
How are we doing with Satan? Does he think his presence is tolerated, even welcome? Or does he know that it’s dangerous to be around us? He is fighting a losing battle and he knows it, but that won’t keep his poison from killing us if we allow him to get too close.
Do not give opportunity to the Devil, Eph 4:27.
Dene Ward
I have come a long way in 35 years--from a city girl who screamed and ran from a foot long, pencil-thin, bright green garden snake to a country woman who understands the value of a snake on the property—God’s original mousetrap. I will never be a snake lover. I went out one afternoon and found him stretched out at the foot of my lounge chair. I got the broom and shooed him back into his pipe. My dogs can sit at my feet and have their heads scratched, but with Mr. Snake it is only a matter of “live and let live.”
Too many times we take that attitude with Satan. Yes, he is out there every day. Sometimes we even bump elbows in passing, but we don’t have to stop and politely say, “Excuse me.” Don’t give him a cool spot on the carport and an idle belly rub with your bare toes.
If this garter snake were one of the four poisonous varieties we have in this area—all of which we have seen on our land—he would not be tolerated. Although my guys may tell funny stories about me and snakes, they cannot deny that I know how to make like Annie Oakley when a bad one comes along. I have killed them with a shotgun, a .22 rifle, and a .22 pistol. I have killed them with rat shot and buckshot. When necessary I have used a shovel. I have lost count of how many poisonous snakes I have killed. They get fewer every year.
How are we doing with Satan? Does he think his presence is tolerated, even welcome? Or does he know that it’s dangerous to be around us? He is fighting a losing battle and he knows it, but that won’t keep his poison from killing us if we allow him to get too close.
Do not give opportunity to the Devil, Eph 4:27.
Dene Ward
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