The Snake & The Guillotine

When I walked around the house to turn on the watering system, I saw them. There must’ve been a dozen or more. Zipping across the plants, up the walls, across the windows. Little geckos everywhere; like a gecko day care…or, Gecko Café ...for snakes, I thought.

Usually, I treat our winter home, against every creeping crawling slithering thing from fire ant to snake. But this year, whether too busy or too lazy. I didn’t get it done. Well, actually, I went through the motions. I made one quick loop around, but not thorough, not under our double wide home like I usually do and not with all of the ingredients I usually use.

I turned on the water and watched the little lizards zip around avoiding the mist. I really need to get some snake repellent.  

A day or two later, I was in the bedroom/office on the phone, when I heard my wife storm into the house, talking loud and fast.

“A snake!”

She was putting the bikes under the carport for the night, when she saw it. Right there. Almost three feet long, as round as her wrist. Right there next to the steps. Venom and fangs, lay right there next to our door.

Poison and pain coiled, right where the grand kids play. Where their innocent laughter echoes in and out of the house after school.  

 From out of the blue death slithered up to our door.

You know what I mean? Like that doctor’s report; the divorce papers; the pink slip; that bank note; the phone call you never wanted; the pain; the words you can’t unsay; the deed you can’t undo, the evil you never asked for.

And then, regret pierces like fangs through skin. I should’ve taken care of this. Blame. It’s all my fault. Shame. It could’ve been avoided, if only I’d taken the time. Guilt.

Earlier in the week a friend had loaned us a large scraper for removing some crumbling Chattahoochee stone off our driveway. I grabbed the straight bladed tool, and formulated in my mind how it would make a perfect guillotine.

Easing the door open, it was pitch black. I could barely see his form poised in the dark. I waved my hand in front of the motion light mounted above the door. The carport lit up like noon.

The intruder didn’t move.

There wasn’t much room between the step and a long-handled brush my wife had been using to scrub the siding. Slowly, ever so slowly, I positioned the guillotine to drop about four inches behind the venomous head.

Every muscle in my body tensed. I focused on the target. What if I miss? What if the fanged-foe strikes back? Will I be able to get out of the way?  If my buddy Phil were back from up North, he’d be the one doing this. He carries a snake catcher. He’s good at it. He knows how they move. He catches them and takes them out to a safe place far from folks and lets them go. I’m not that knowledgeable, or that brave, or that kind.

I pulled in a long breath, and held…BAM.

The guillotine slammed hard and on target. I felt a rush of relief. Knowing that I should’ve done more to prevent an intrusion like this, I felt I’d dodged a bullet.   

The motion sensor light timed out and all went black.

The speed and power of the writhing that took place didn’t surprise me, but the length of time it continued, did. I figured it would settle down, dead, without a head. But the writhing continued, with no signs of stopping.

I pressed down hard on the blade, in the dark.

 Why is it that some things refuse to die? The chemo kills everything but the cancer. The nasty habit just won’t shake. The toxic relationships never change. The bills only seem to grow.

The writhing continued. I decided to try something new, and shifted the weight of the blade back and forth. That was a mistake. I leaned too far. The slippery serpent slid out from under the blade and skittered across the carport floor and under the house in a blur.

I waved my hand in front of the motion sensor. There was light. There was no head. Surely, the guillotine hit its mark and did its deed. But there was no evidence on the floor, no blood or as much as a smudge on the blade.

Wait. Back up. Rewind that last scene. The bad guys aren’t supposed to get away. The good guys are supposed to win. What went wrong with this story?

Such is the divided world in which we live. Such is life. A battle. A war. Not red vs blue. Or black vs white. It’s right vs wrong. Good vs evil.

Some won’t even agree, who’s bad and who’s good. Some will say, the bad guy was the one holding the guillotine.

Make no mistake. There is evil. It is real, and its desire is to take you out.

But it’s not the snake. Nor is it the folks behind the knife, or the gun, or the screen. Folks who do evil, are not the enemy. They’ve been infected with the venom of evil, and are more of a victim than those upon whom they prey.

It’s recorded that the first person ever born killed the second. God’s plan to “make man in Our image” wasn’t off to a real good start.

What was God’s reply?  Did He take a guillotine to Cain? Did a lightning bolt shoot from the sky? No. He addressed the real culprit “…sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it.” (Gen. 4:7).

The problem and the answer in one short sentence. (I love that about God. He keeps it short and simple for guys like me.)

Evil is the problem.

Overcome it.

Period.

It is written, after the very first sin, judgement was pronounced on evil, who happened to be hiding behind the disguise of a serpent: “He will crush your head, and you will strike His heel.” (Gen. 3:15)

I wasn’t the first to fail at trying to lop off the serpent’s head. From that day to this thousands of years and multitudes of people have tried, and failed…

All, but One.

Just before the guillotine dropped once and for all on the serpent’s head, it was said…

Jesus answered them, “Do you now believe? Indeed the hour is coming, yes, has now come, that you will be scattered, each to his own, and will leave Me alone. And yet I am not alone, because the Father is with Me. These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” ~ Jesus, the snake crusher (John 16:31-33).

Remember,

 iluvu, but more importantly,

Jesus loves you.