Snakes beware of Holy Spirit.

While I am sure the title of this post explains everything I think I should maybe give you some more detail. This weekend we were down at my grandparent’s house in good ol’ Waco, Texas. Now in case you have not had the privilege of living or visiting the country it is a wild and vivacious place filled with tiny ponies, llamas, grasshoppers, rusty tractors and of course your run of the mill snakes, rats and spiders. (oh my). You should visit sometime.  Tis delightful.

Anywho, we were working hard to clean out some unnecessary things and select some items to keep out in my grandad’s HUGE aluminum shed. We’re talking able to hold a full size boat at one time humongous.  So my mother, father and I are working up a sweat and decide to break for dinner. (holla mcalisters) Upon our return we began loading our UHAUL once again aka my dad and I lifting everything and my mother overseeing the operation. Suddenly she shrieks “_________”insert word of your choice. Keepin' it G peeps “That’s a snake!” Needless to say it took a whole 0.0001 seconds for me to hightail it out of there. Now it may or may not be public knowledge that I am terrified of snakes. I always say there is a reason Satan was a snake in the Garden of Eden and not a bunny. Out of fear I ran to my car jumped out of my tennis shoes and slung on my cowgirl boots. Let me paint this picture, imagine this: hot pink aggie tank, black stretchy capris, and brown cowgirl boots with a garden hoe, I don’t know if frolicking is the appropriate word, perhaps terrified hopping? Around while both of my older and wiser parents armed themselves likewise with pitchforks and shovels. Remember people, country, aluminum shed, demon snake.

We eventually decide to stop loading, set off a roach and flea smoke bomb to agitate the little devil out and call it a night. Silently I was praying “ok Jesus, I need you to take care of this, mmk?” Because another meeting with a snake might send me back to the pant wetting days of yore. But alas, our evening was not over. We continued packing  inside the house and during one of our trips out to the garage for a rag or box my dad opens the door and all I hear is “SNAKE!” I KID YOU NOT, I have spent some substantial time down at that house and NEVER have I seen so much as a snake skin and in the span of 1.5 hrs we saw two! Well we Crosby’s soldier on and we have to go out to the garage to turn on the hot water heater because mama don’t handle a cold shower. Have you ever seen the Parent Trap? The part where the girls show Vicki how to ward off mountain lions? Beating two sticks, Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. That was me, in the garage while my dad figured out our hot water. Haha Hilarity.

But I must tell you, Jesus did indeed take care of me. When unloading the UHAUL back in Dallas, we never did find mister snake. God does calm our fears, sometimes no matter how frivolous it might seem. Somebody wants to say Hallelujah.

You have just witnessed/survived your first “Courtney story”. Congratulations.

* Due to the severe nature of my state of mind no pictures will be featured in this post. Because one of two reasons, 1) I was too scared to photograph 2) My actions under fear/ snake attire should not be documented for repeated viewing. *