By Kathy McBroom
As I walked out towards the pool, there he was, looking all regal, and “snakified.” I didn’t even see him until I was almost on him, and then I jumped back several feet. He never moved.
I hate snakes.
I took his picture. My husband informed me that he was a good snake if there is such a thing. I thought, maybe we can cohabitate. That would be new. He could do his job and I could do mine.
Maybe I was softening toward snakes.
My husband went to the same area and never saw the snake. He said most likely you will not see him again. I came back later in the day to find him stretched out in the sun. He was a long snake. Again, I thought that maybe I could do this. I watched him slither back towards our pool. Then I watched him go around the side of our pool.
What happened to the “you will probably never see him” thing? He even looked like he saw me. Brave, he seemed to be.
I went into our house and still watched him for awhile as he freely went about our yard. How has he just taken over? I watched him until I couldn’t see him anymore. I thought for sure he had slithered back to his home.
It’s like one of those things that you can’t stop looking at. It’s intriguing.
I came back out of our house. I just had to know where he was, and as I rounded the corner of our house, there he was!
He was no longer by our pool. He was coming on up close to our porch! He had made himself at home. This I can’t live with. He has to die. No more toying with the idea that maybe we can cohabitate. We can’t.
Sin. It so easily entangles us. We are at first scared of it because we know it’s wrong. But we think we can live with it. It’s not that big a deal.
Every bad road that you or I have ever been down started with one little thought: maybe we can coexist. It might not be so bad. Why be such a stickler about this? And, then it takes over. It sets up house and just laughs at us. We are hooked. And sin has come for your life.
But it is not too late. As for me, I picked up some rocks and started throwing them at the snake to make him go away. We can’t play with sin. Or snakes.
And the rest of the story. When we arrived the next day and started looking for the snake, he had made himself at home in our screened-in porch. He’s gone now.
— McBroom lives in Buchanan where her husband, Robert McBroom, serves as pastor of Point Pleasant Baptist Church.