Garter Snakes

(Note:  This was in the draft file from way back, 3-26-08)


Ah, spring.... G did school with K this morning, I worked all morning...I had thought this was going to be an easy week...well, maybe tomorrow!!

About 3:30 I was beat and it was sunny, so K and I went outside to feed the horses and replace some rotted fence posts in the back yard--a job I have been putting off all winter. I don't mind the nailing or the digging, but inevitably the posts are rotted only a foot down, and so the other foot and a half is still good and next to impossible to pull up.

K and I ducked into the lean-to to dodge one hail storm. We have pea-sized hail that stings bad enough...I can't imagine what hail would be like if it were golf ball sized like in the midwest!! The hail stopped as quickly as it started and we went to work knocking off rails and pulling up posts, and started digging out our first post.  K spotted a baby snake (garter snake) so we looked it over and I explained to him that we couldn't keep it in the house because Daddy would flip....and then I pulled up another scoop of rotted wood and sitting right on top of that was an even bigger garter snake, maybe 10 inches long.

When we first moved here, we had red racers...black with red heads and red/orange stripes. But the ones we have been seeing in the past few years are the most beautiful blue...We held the slow-moving, slow-motion snake in our gloved hands and watched as it "tasted" the spring air, deciding who held it and if it was time to wake up yet. It warmed up as we held it and admired it. It had a pale yellow stripe down the back and each side and the spots on the black body between the stripes were a neon blue. In the summer, these snakes move so fast (and there are BIG ones in our manure pile, aka the fly-smorgasborg) that I half thought I imagined the neon blue. But it really is neon blue. As we examined his tummy, the sun came out and K noted the opalescence of his gray-blue underside, glimmering blue and pink and silver and cream.

What an amazing God we have that He would make even the underside of a snake beautiful!! And how fortunate for us that we got to catch one and examine it today!! And how lucky I am to have a boy to share it all with!! The rain and cold finally drove us inside, but at least we got one post replaced...enough to keep Gracie out of Bill's yard!!

The Other Son

Prodigal:
1)  characterized by profuse or wasteful expenditure: LAVISH  (a prodigal  feast) (prodigal outlays for her clothes)
2)  recklessly spendthrift (the prodigal prince)
3)  yielding abundantly : LUXURIANT —often used with of (nature has been so prodigal of her bounty — H. T. Buckle)

I have been thinking about the “prodigal son”, the story Jesus told about the son who demanded his inheritance and then went out and spent it on raucous living.  Eventually, the son saw the foolishness of his ways and returned home, much to the delight of the father.  His brother, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so excited to see him.

We have probably all heard this story used in sermons many times.  I think the emphasis is usually on the prodigal, repentant son; because that is us.  But I have been thinking about the brother lately.  So please indulge me when I go beyond the story and write in a few things that aren’t there, but might be.

I’m guessing the faithful son in the story was not yet a parent, or he would totally understand his father’s perspective, and he might even feel the same way about his brother’s return.  It’s also possible that the son who stayed behind secretly wanted to leave the family business and go out on his own, but didn’t do it either because he lacked the strength or because he loved his father and after seeing what his brother’s actions did to his father, he couldn’t bear to do the same.  Either way, I think he lacked an appreciation for the relationship that he had with his father, the brick-by-brick foundation he had been laying in the relationship with his father.

But there is also the possibility that the son watched his father mourn the loss of his prodigal son.  Perhaps he watched him every day, as he scanned the horizon looking for his son to return.  Perhaps his heart ached as his father, in a moment of emotional weakness, expressed his frustration about his lost son, or his anger about his foolishness, or his hurt over the separation, the lack of communication. “He doesn’t call. He doesn’t write. I only hear how he is through the grapevine.”  It’s possible that the son who watched the agony of his father, helpless to ease the pain in his heart, built up a little anger of his own for his wayward brother.

It’s possible that when the brother returned, and the faithful son saw how happy it made his father, even though he knew this was right, held a little fear in his heart that his brother would take off yet again, and he would have to watch , helpless, as his father mourned yet again.  I have always felt that the brother who stayed behind acted childishly and selfishly.  But maybe his concern, deep down, was that his father would be hurt again.

In the Old Testament, we see that each tribe was given a portion of the Promised Land as their inheritance except for the tribe of Levi, who was given a small area in each of the other tribes, because the Levites were the priests, and they needed to be among the people in order to minister to them. But god did not consider that they had been short-changed.  He said of it, “I am their inheritance.”  That is, they had a special relationship with God, a special closeness, a special understanding that God did not give to the ordinary man.  God gave them the BEST; He gave them himself.  This is the inheritance God gave each of us when He came to earth in the person of Jesus to live among us, to show us Himself in human form.  This is the gift God gave us when He left his Holy Spirit to dwell among us.

I am the prodigal.  I have wasted the inheritance God gave me here on earth, and I have returned to God begging to be a servant in his kingdom, but he has restored my position as an heir.  All God wants of me is that I walk beside him, daily, intimately. But how many days do I go off and do my own thing?  I am guilty of not valuing the relationship God wants to have with me.  How do I hurt him when I wander off on some rabbit trail?  I always come back, and I always will come back, but what have I missed that God wanted to show me on our walk, or what story did I not hear, or what dance did I miss out on while I was out off on my own?

I don’t want to miss any more. I want to sit at His feet, hear every word, dance every dance and hear every story.