Sitting on a Snake

My parents called on Friday night and as we talked, they shared the good news that my grandfather, who has struggled with illness over the last couple of years, is doing much better lately. He was even able to travel over Labor Day weekend! That discussion about Grandpa has caused me to reminisce about he and Grandma over the last couple of days, and one remembrance in particular came to mind this morning. . .

One Sunday morning Grandma found reviewing her Sunday School lesson to be a more exciting experience that she'd ever known before. Getting up from the couch to grab a quick bite of breakfast, she returned to the living room to find a snake poking up its head from between the cushions she'd vacated only moments before! Screaming for Grandpa, together, they shoved the couch out the nearby front door, and watched and waited anxiously as the snake slowly crawled out of the sofa and into the motor of their pick-up truck. Grandpa jumped in the truck, searched out the bumpiest dirt road in the county, and proceeded to run roughshod in hopes the snake would fall out. Much to his delight, a few miles down the road, the snake fell out onto the ground instead of crawling into the cab with him!

I doubt any of us will ever forget that harrowing morning, and it got me to thinking: Am I sitting on any snakes? Do I have sin in my life that I've stuffed down under cushions, endangering myself and maybe others? Perhaps I've even allowed that sin to invade other areas of my life as it's slithered from one place to another. Am I willing to shake it free? It may mean riding some bumpy roads to get rid of it, a painful and risky process, but isn't it worth the freedom to be found - freedom from its threat, its hold and the danger of its surprise?

From that day forward, Grandma always checked those cushions before she sat down. I want to daily check to see if I need to do any cleaning out. Sitting on snakes sounds like no fun to me!