My friend and I arrived home from vacation on a sweet June afternoon. I walked through the house opening shutters—surveying my worldly domain. Opening the patio door blinds I was welcomed by a committee of one. A snake slithered across the concrete, his head lifted high, his beady black eyes peering through the glass. He was casing the joint, and I was beside myself. I have never been on friendly terms with snakes. I avoid them at the zoo. I even refuse to look at a picture. When my Cecil was ill, we watched a lot of Animal Planet. Invariably, there were slithering, slimy snakes and various other reptiles. I consider myself to have been very brave, though I watched most of it with my eyes closed. However, I didn’t feel brave that June afternoon.
I raced to the phone and dialed 911. “What is your emergency,” asked the voice on the other end of the line.“There’s a snake looking in my house,” I cried.
“There’s a snake looking in my house,” I cried.
“That’s not an emergency, “she replied.
“It may not be an emergency for you,” I said disparately, “but it is for me and I don’t know what to do.”
I had no confidence in my ability to take care of the matter.
Laughing, she gave me the number of the local Serpentarium. I didn’t know that such a thing existed, and I’m still not sure. I can’t find it in my dictionary.
A few moments later, I opened the door to a grinning young man. “Did you order apples,” he asked, and then, “where is the snake?”
“He’s in the back,” I said. “I’m sure he’s a rattler.
I opened the patio door just a sliver, so this snake handler could squeeze through. The snake was no longer on the porch, but in a matter of minutes, the man was back with the creature scrunched up, clutched in his hand. I hesitantly let him walk through my living room and out the front door. I’m sure he laughed all the way back to that weird place.
Sunday morning, my pastor preached about Moses and his unwillingness to answer God’s call to deliver Israel. He had all kinds of reasons why he couldn’t do it.
“I’m no one,” he said.
“I don’t know what to do—I don’t know what to say.”
“No one will listen to me”
“Send someone else,” he cried.
Moses had a shepherd’s staff in his hand. When he threw it down at God’s command, the staff became a snake, and Moses ran from it.
God said, “Don’t run from it. Pick it up by its tail.”
Moses picked up the snake and it became a staff again. Hats off to Moses! I don’t think I could have done it.
Hats off to Moses! I don’t think I could have done it.
In Exodus 3:12 and 18, God said to Moses, “I will certainly be with you…Then they will heed (listen to) your voice.”
The God of the universe—the God who is the creator of all things—the God who has all power—the God who existed before time, promised Moses that he certainly, no doubt about it, would be with him.
Most of us are tempted to run from the difficult things—from the hard assignments. When, as a single young woman, God began to speak to me about becoming involved in full-time ministry, I balked. I had always wanted to be in ministry, but I imagined that I would marry a preacher, iron his shirts, sing occasionally, and shake hands. However, that was not God’s plan.
“I CAN’T DO IT,” I declared.
Oh, I was smart enough, well educated, even talented, but there were two big obstacles.
First of all, I was overweight—obese is a better term. I was always well groomed and well dressed, but I was self-conscious and insecure. People wouldn’t accept me. I was sure of it.
“I CAN’T DO IT, LORD!”
Then there was the problem of being alone. I didn’t want to be a single woman preacher. People didn’t like women preachers. I didn’t like women preachers. I had seen and heard a few. To me, they seemed too aggressive and unattractive.
If I wanted anything in life, I wanted everyone to like me—love me. I didn’t want to be weird.
Ministry, in the 60’s, was an uphill climb for women, particularly single women, but in the confines of my stubborn, frightened little heart, God whispered, “I will certainly be with you. I will enable you, and people will accept you.”
No words can explain the joy I have had in almost fifty years of ministry. A gentleman, whom I have not seen or heard from in several years, called yesterday just to remind me that I was instrumental in his salvation—a wonderful encouragement on a difficult day.
God’s great promise to us is found in Isaiah 41:10. “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes I will help you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
DON’T RUN FROM THE SNAKE. PICK IT UP BY THE TAIL AND SEE WHAT GOD WILL DO.
THE SUN WILL COME OUT TOMORROW