We bought our first house the summer of 1976 and moved from there in March of 1979. That's as near as I can come to dating the story I tell. My husband came to me, agitated, afraid. He told me there was a snake in the entryway. I went to look, but didn't see it. He insisted and got near enough to show it to me. I hadn't seen it because the animal, not more than ten inches long and the breadth of a lead pencil, rested on the metal right beside the screen door. But this had hit on my husband's fear, and it was up to me to take care of the matter. I did. I don't remember how, probably with a broom and sending him flying toward the grass. That was the first, but far from the last.
It's not that I'm not afraid of snakes. My heart is still racing from the last snake story I'll tell today, but my fear is trumped by my husband's. For years, the problem wasn't mine. We raised two boys. More explicitly, we raised two Boy Scouts, both members of the Order of the Arrow. Each of them spent time in summers working as staff at the nearest scout camp, and each was in turn the nature expert there. They got their herpetology merit badges--but not at OUR house! I think the younger was in middle school the last time I dealt with a snake--or was around when one was dealt with. Until today. That snake wasn't a great deal longer than the first--maybe two feet at the most. And son proudly had him in an old box from the garage, one I had painted in the 60's for hubby when we were students. It was an old cigar box.
I went out of town a couple years ago, and husband found one at the back door. He called animal control. I kid you not. The snake had vanished by the time they got there, and after looking around and I think kidding him some (or a lot) they left. He was still wishing when I returned home he'd had the presence of mind to turn a bucket over it so they could have removed the offending presence.
A few minutes ago we were in the kitchen. I picked up a stack of orange peels and coffee grounds to take to the compost pile. I stepped out the door into the garage, took three steps, and turned back around. "There's a three foot snake on the driveway. What do you want me to do?"
"I didn't want to know that."
Yeah. Like I didn't know that. I started back out.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to put a bucket over it. I'm willing to do that much."
"Aren't you going to put some shoes on?"
I laid down the laundry basket and went in search of shoes. Wearing the heels I'd removed after coming back from the church this morning, basket in hand, I headed back out. To an empty garage. I came back in and reported the snake was gone.
"Where did it go?"
"I don't know. I didn't see it under my car."
"Where was it?"
"Right at the edge of the garage and the driveway." I picked up the peels and grounds and took them out, scanning the garage and adjacent hedge a little better. Nothing. Neither husband nor I am comfortable with the result.
Notice that the word "fear" is bracketed…. This short word somehow touches about every aspect of our lives. It was an evil and corroding thread; the fabric of our existence was shot through with it…. Sometimes we think fear ought to be classed with stealing. It seems to cause more trouble.
…. We never apologize to anyone for depending upon our Creator. We can laugh at those who think spirituality the way of weakness. Paradoxically, it is the way of strength. The verdict of the ages is that faith means courage. All men of faith have courage. They trust their God. We never apologize for God. Instead we let Him demonstrate, through us, what He can do. We ask Him to remove our fear and direct our attention to what He would have us be. At once, we commence to outgrow fear.
AA Big Book, Chapter 5
But the fear was real. And other things I've always feared aren't as innocuous. I have a new project and need it to be a financial success, for a lot of reasons. For me it's a matter of pride. But others are involved, and it needs to succeed for a lot of reasons. Yesterday I went against my grain and flat out asked my friends to help make it a success. There are others things I'll need to do this week for that purpose. And as long as I'm doing my best to understand God's will for my life each day and asking for the power to carry it out, I can confront the fears one at a time, outgrowing them and watching God reveal what plans he has for me, how far my comfort level actually can expand. I know, though, he won't quit, that he'll keep me pushing back the comfort level, outgrowing my fears. Thank God!
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What would happen if you outgrew your fears?
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