Category Archives: God’s plans for us

A Phobia?

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Last night after I’d finished writing a blog about snakes, Birgitta and I talked about my snake-aversion. “Is it a phobia?” she said.

The dictionary defines “phobia” as persistent, irrational fear of something specific that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it. The answer is yes. But as we talked, Birgitta tried to dispel my fear by Googling a few facts.

She typed “Michigan snakes” into the search bar, forcing me to jump to a chair where I wouldn’t see the screen when pictures appeared.

Phobia for sure.

I know God is working on me, though, trying to rid me of it. Last spring Klaus found a dead snake (a blue racer) in our driveway, apparently run over by a car. As a joke he tucked it under Louisa’s windshield wiper. But wouldn’t you know, it was me who drove the car next, and of course it was drizzling. When the wiper blade shot up, the snake came with it, looking right at me and wiggling as if alive. I didn’t sleep for days.

Then last summer while walking Jack, I saw another run-over snake, this one brown and black. And last fall while riding bikes, we passed a yard-long garter snake traveling on the edge of our road. That’s 3 snakes in 3 seasons, a sure sign God is having his way with me.

Birgitta narrowed her Google search to SW Michigan and read aloud, hoping to prove my fear was irrational. But she kept coming up against facts she said I wouldn’t like, such as: many snakes have 30 to 50 young every year. My mind flashed a picture of snake-carpet covering our entire neighborhood, and my phobia strengthened.

Birgitta said, “When did your fear get started?”

We pinned it down to a 1951 family vacation in Florida. Mary (age 7) and I (age 5) had come across a poisonous coral snake in the yard behind our motel, and Dad’s reaction was uncharacteristic of him. “Stand back!” he yelled. “Get away!” as he attacked with a broom. That probably started my snakes-are-bad mentality.

Studying Genesis and “the serpent of old”* didn’t help, especially after I noticed that the snake was the only animal God ever cursed.**

Whatever the cause of my phobia, I know beyond doubt the Lord is offering to help. As I climbed the stairs to face another worrisome night, Google’s statement that snakes don’t do steps (since they can’t bend to 90 degrees) was reassuring. Then, surprisingly, as I crawled between the sheets, God gave me a tiny sliver of consideration for snakes: no hands, no feet, afraid of mankind, divinely cursed, and always eating dust. It’s not much of a life.

Cartoon snake

Maybe some distant day, we’ll even be friends.

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15)

*Revelation 12:9, 20:2    ** Genesis 3:14

Trying to Trust

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Welcoming a new baby is an immense blessing, a gift from God unmatched by any other. Along with every newborn, however, comes a list of responsibilities that can scare even the most well-prepared woman. The buck stops at mommy, and it’s her job to make sure baby grows and thrives. But what about mommy?

Babies have erratic sleep patterns, and a cat-napping little one translates to mama-exhaustion. Worst of all is the middle-of-the-night, wide-awake baby who thinks it’s playtime. Although mothers usually thrill to a baby’s giggles and grins, during the night it’s cause for despair.

Snatching sleep

Last night, 6 month old Emerald did the playtime-at-night thing… for hours. When I came downstairs this morning and saw rumpled blankets on the living room floor, I knew it’d been a night of action with Birgitta eeking out bits of sleep in the midst of Emerald’s playground…. surely a mothering low point.

New moms, though, aren’t the only ones who battle sleeplessness. Sometimes when Birgitta is “doing a night” downstairs, I’m upstairs doing one, too, wasting precious zzzz’s tending to my worries.

Of course the struggle is all in my head but is no less real than what’s happening downstairs. Yesterday, for example, while climbing a small dune, I stepped over something frightening: a long, winding snake track in the soft sand. Fearful of snakes, I froze, wondering if the track-maker was nearby. My eyes followed its trail till it disappeared into the woods, and from the markings, I could tell it was a big one.

Snake track

Then last night, as I put my head on the pillow, I asked God to spare me from snake nightmares. He did, but I forgot to also mention stray thoughts. About 3:30 am I was awake and wondering:

  • What would make a snake cross an exposed sand dune like that?
  • Did it come out of a hole close-by?
  • Were there others lurking about, maybe a nest of wriggling babies?
  • Might snakes be in the woods outside my house?
  • Could a snake get into my house? Could it climb the steps?
  • Would a snake try to bite me?
  • Would it be something I could ever forget?

Birgitta’s sleep deprivation wasn’t her fault. Mine was.

As a Christian with an invitation to access Christ’s power, why did I lie awake and agonize as I had? Didn’t I trust God to take care of me? Haven’t I memorized Scriptures about pushing back fear? And the most poignant question, don’t I believe God would help me cope if I had a snake-encounter? [shudder]

Snake evidence

In the light of day, the Lord let me know the purpose of last night’s misery: he’s working on my trust issues. Although it doesn’t feel very good to be tested, the Bible tells me he’s going to do it again anyway, probably in the near future. I’m only hoping it won’t have to do with snakes, but….

*            *            *            *            *            *

All things considered, maybe Birgitta has the better night-time gig.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.” (Romans 15:13)

But first….

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Sitting soloYesterday was a day of firsts for 6 month old Emerald: first baby food, first tooth, first trip to the beach, first sitting-up-solo.

That first year for all of us was a doozy! Most of us tripled our birth weight, mastered our first words, learned to sit, crawl, stand, and walk, figured out who was family and who wasn’t, and could mimic animal sounds. Scientists say if we continued at that phenomenal rate of development, we’d eventually be as tall as a skyscraper and would possess all the knowledge of the world.

During that first year babies are coping with “firsts” virtually every day, and truth be told, firsts don’t end after that. They may not come in such rapid-fire succession, but they do keep coming. Some people love that aspect of life, embracing unpredictability and thriving on change. Others would rather learn a niche and stay there. But babies? They don’t have a choice.

We adults might think we do have a choice about how and when we encounter our firsts, and in certain respects that’s true. We can control whether or not we try sky diving or deep sea diving, but oftentimes we don’t have a choice about our firsts. Accidents fit into that category, as well as disease and death.

Whatever our firsts are and whenever they come, they’re always accompanied by a need to adjust. That might involve making concessions and sometimes having to lower our standards in order to cope. But when we have to, we do. If we refuse, we can find ourselves sliding into dysfunction.

Sometimes I think of the multitude of firsts Jesus faced when he chose to become human. I wish I could have listened in on the discussion between the three members of the Trinity as they pondered the many dramatic firsts the Son would have to experience. That he willingly subjected himself to them anyway, knowing how difficult they would be, is proof of his love for us. It was the only way to make sure we could be citizens of heaven, and for a reason unknown to us, he wanted that with a passion.

Jesus experienced his firsts moving from heaven to earth, a definite step down. The rest of us will move in the other direction, from earth to heaven, a change that will bring one magnificent first after another. Most likely there won’t be an end to those, and that’s a glorious prospect.

Eating

Yesterday little Emerald had a day marked by happy firsts, and the rest of us could probably name a few we had, too. But positive or negative, welcome or unwelcome, we can simply choose to view all of our firsts as practice for an eternal life that will be chock full of them. But how thrilling to know that those firsts will all be good ones!

“How abundant are the good things that you have stored up for those who fear you.” (Psalm 31:19)