Snakes in My Path

I hate snakes.

It is completely irrational and silly, but the sight of a slithering snake brings wild screams out of me and I do the mad jumping dance that leaves me panting and my legs shaky.

I see probably one or maybe two a year.

This year, I have seen one nearly every single time I have gone outside.

Every. Single. Time.

And I swear to you, it's the same one.

Today, as I was chatting away with my friend as we jogged down our favorite, and super traveled (hiked, biked, ran) trail, the stick right below us twisted and withdrew and jerked.

Yep, right below us as we sailed over it, was my friend, Mr. Fat Long and Feisty Gopher Snake (he is male. . . all snakes are male). He twisted and I swear tried to nip at my friends heals (I has leaping over his tail--hallelujah).

When we came to a stop ten feet away, panting and possibly still screaming, we turned and watched him look over at us, frustrated with us for ruining his lovely sunny nap. Then with an unnervingly fast slither, he was gone, disappearing into the prickly grasses.

We resumed our run and tried hard not to jump at every stick in the road.

When I got home and climbed, dusty and sweaty, into the shower, I thought, there is a life lesson here. Each time I go out, I see this snake . . . on my biking paths, five miles from here. On hikes across the valley, I see this fellow.

So what is it?

God must have a message for me. I believe, by the way, in God. I know not everyone does. In fact, during all this, maybe a lot of people don't, but I do. I don't believe in a God that protects us from everything. In fact, I believe in a God who lets life happen to us, but He is there to help me/us figure out things when we can't figure them out ourselves.

So, I figured, this snake is a little lesson He wants to teach me. But what could it be? Then I realized for me, I think it represents life right now. Things really aren't getting all better (numbers are staying the same--but not getting worse--but aren't cured), but it's time to start getting out and getting on with life.

Yeah, it's a little scary.

You don't know when you'll come up against something or someone who is ill and they might not know it. It's invisible. But still, it's time to start going out. You could stay in and maybe some of you should, but for most of us, it's time to start living again. Cautiously, yes, but still . . . start living. Even if there is fear. Even if there is risk. Even if . .. there is a snake in your path.

And that's my lesson. I am TERRIFIED of snakes. Usually if I see one, I will literally not go on that path again, but not anymore. I know whatever path I trod, he will show up and give me a little cardio burst.

I could stay home, in bed, and not venture out walking, hiking, or biking.

But he's just one small snake (ok, so he might be almost five feet long, but . . . in order for me to deal with this . . .small must be used) and I am big. I am strong. I have amazing jumping and dodging muscles. I can do this. The hills, mountains, views, paths, great discussions and wonderful experiences are waiting for me. I will not let one little snake stop me.

I will accept the possible cost of running into him (ok, the inevitability of running into him) in order to have hours and hours of experiences.

That's how it is right now. There are risks going out, but with it comes so many beautiful, wonderful, and needed experiences. It is worth the risk--with wisdom and good common sense of course--to be part of living and resuming normal life.

And that my friends, is one lesson God has taught me.

And darned if it isn't a good one. I can't believe I'm writing this . . . but I am not as afraid anymore. I think I might just be facing (forced facing) my fears. I am going to hike in thigh high boots from now on . . . just in case.

And . . . if you're wondering . .. our St George, Lake Powell Trip was AMAZING. Freezing, windy, wet, red ant bites, gained five pounds type of awesome.

Here's some pics