What's Squeezing You?

I saw the proverbial “penny drop” in a classroom of adults and kids. A wonderful lecture  with great and meaningful content was being taught, but the delivery was oh, so familiar. The adults listened dutifully, taking notes, the kids listened respectfully, doodling on  paper. But when the teacher told a story to illustrate his point, something shifted. The interest of young and old was instantly piqued. The story cemented the truth more  securely than did the simple facts. Have you experienced that?

My Tennessee grandfather told my brother and me a story when we were little tikes. I don’t really know if it was true or not, but it fixed a truth in me that endures to this day.

He told of a young Indonesian boy, who lived in a small village on the edge of the jungle. While he was collecting wood for his family’s cooking fire, he found a baby python, about 8 or 10 inches long. It had such beautiful colorations on its skin, and a  cute little tongue that flickered in and out. When he picked it up, he was fascinated with the gentle way it gripped his fingers in its coils. He decided to take it home as a pet.

He kept it in a covered basket near his bed. He loved looking at it and cared for it wonderfully. He became a curiosity to the village kids, and he enjoyed the attention. He’d let the snake coil around his wrist while the kids came close to look and touch.  When they did, he’d pull the snake off his wrist and proudly display his strength over it.  

He had been playing with the very thing whose instinct is to crush and kill

As the years went by, the boy grew, and so did the python. He became more daring with his friends, holding the head but letting it coil around his arm and later his legs. Each time, when the moment was right, he’d wrestle free from the snake’s coils in a show of strength and superiority. His friends would caution him, saying, “That snake is getting strong,” to which he’d say, “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

The boy grew into a young man, and his python grew large. One day, while entertaining his friends, he let it wrap around his torso. Everyone watched as he struggled to break free from the power of the snake. And, once again, breathing heavily, he was just able to break free. “See,” he said, panting hard, “I can  handle it. I’m stronger!”

“You’d better not play with that snake,” his friends said, “It’s too strong, it will kill you one day.” But years of handling and pitting his strength against it had lured him into overconfidence. He dismissed their caution.

Not many days later, showing off again, he tried to pry free, but wasn’t able to  break the grip and weight of the coils. The harder he tried the tighter it squeezed, till finally he gasped out, “Help!"

His friends quickly grabbed the coils of the snake and pulled while another grabbed a nearby machete and, with some effort, cut the head off the python.

Panting for breath and looking at his friends and the snake lying dead on the ground, he realized how lucky he’d been. He had been playing with and caring for the very thing whose basic instinct was to crush and kill.  

“That’s what playing with sin does,” Grandad would say. The penny dropped. Point made. I’ve always hated snakes anyway. ;) 

The sin that so easily entangles (Hebrews 12:1) seems harmless enough at first. It’s just a small thing, it doesn’t hurt anyone. But as you keep it, care for it, and feed it, it grows. You may have the strength to control it for a while, but, in the end, it will suffocate.

What are you feeding these days? Can you feel the squeeze tightening? Perhaps it’s time to heed  the advice of friends.

In this new year, I’m asking the Lord what things He wants me to STOP and what things He wants me to START. One doesn’t happen without the other.