On our way back to the house after a few hours on the beach, Michael and I were talking about how cool it is to slip away on a Monday morning to lay in the sun on a deserted beach. It takes us about 8 minutes to get there. It’s before the tourists cover it up and although the wind is frigid, we are blessed to have ‘wind walls’ as we call them.
Thus went the conversation….the things about Portugal we would miss if we had to leave. (#1 was the beach being so close….I’ll tell you another day the rest of our list.)
My thoughts continued on our drive back to the house about the things I DON’T miss about living in the States, specifically the South in springtime.
Normally, in my thoughts I only lament the things I miss….coffee creamer, my Suburban, Krispy Kreme, family….you get the picture. But on this morning I allowed myself to consider that not ALL THINGS are perfect about the South.
Loneliness in a missionary’s life often lends us to miss and only remember the good things. We begin to visualize how incredible our life was before the stress, frustration, loneliness and isolation of the mission field. We tend to forget the bad.
The absolute truth in the matter is this…..even though I miss my family terribly and desire greatly that I lived closer to them, I probably wouldn’t see them as much as I have pictures in my mind. Life gets in the way. It has a way of doing that.
On my list of the top 5 things I don’t miss about the South number one was: SNAKES
I’ve enjoyed our little yard here in the country for the last 5 years…..never once seeing a snake.
I was traumatized as a child. I was about 9 or 10 and there came “Snake Summer” I like to call it. My Mom and step dad say they don’t remember the summer our family and our neighbors single-handedly slayed about 20 snakes, but I promise you it is etched in my mind and won’t leave. The day I walked out the backdoor and one huge one was curled around the air unit. The day I walked across the yard to visit my neighbor friend and one was stretched out about 7 feet long right in front of me. My friend’s mom hacked it to pieces with a hoe. I watched the whole thing. I could play it back like a movie. Snakes were invading my home like a cheesy 80’s horror movie and I was helpless. – thus began my hatred of snakes.
Fast forward about 20 years….LaGrange, GA. I’m an adult now, with barefooted babies playing in the yard. Snake eggs in the dirt, curled around bushes, laying in my parking place when we return from the library, I run over it and it refused to die. stretched out in the grass in my backyard, that we notice from the bedroom window! Michael shoots it 100 times…we leave it there to ask a more mature member of our church the next day what kind it is….but is disappears in the night. I threw so many moth balls in the yard it looked like a springtime hail storm. – I hate snakes.
Not everything is perfect about my beloved South.
Yes, I miss your Krispy Kreme….and your Dreamland ribs…..and of course my family.
But you can keep your snakes.