Phobia

I'd like to share something few people know about me. I realize that I am opening myself up to a whole new level of vulnerability here, so I hope you'll be gentle.

Many people are afraid of creepy crawly things like spiders or mice. Some folks get all clammy with the thought of being up high off the ground, while others don't even like to go outside of their home. Phobia is a pretty funny sounding word. It means an irrational and very powerful fear and dislike of something.

For me personally, this definition has nothing to do with beady eyes or slithering scales. Instead of being terrified by something that could actually do me some harm, I find myself deathly afraid of . . . you ready for this? I am terrified of snails.

I'll wait a few seconds while you chuckle it up. Don't worry, I'm used to it. For as long as I can remember, my family has laughed at me about this. Anytime I mention this quirky part of myself to new person, they feel this annoying need to clarify things.

"A snail?" One will question. "What could a snail do to you . . . chase you around?"

I know, it doesn't make any sense at all. But I get terribly panicked when these slimy critters are anywhere around. When I was growing up, I used to carry a flashlight with me when it was dark and rainy, so that I wouldn't step on one. (It would have been the death of me for sure.) My sister (and I'm sure some other mean kids) used to chase me around with them - which is probably what caused the phobia in the first place.

Here is a great story for anyone wanting to laugh some more. Okay, remember now, I am terrified of those shell covered snot pockets. It was the middle of my seventh grade year. This particular balmy afternoon, we had just finished lunch and fourth period was where I would be headed next. I plopped myself down onto my chair in science class, just waiting for the afternoon's entertainment. Mrs. Smith walked into the classroom carrying two large buckets.

Wonder what's inside, I thought. Frogs, plants maybe . . . but no such luck.

Mrs. Smith began walking up and down the classroom - passing out snails. I kid you not. We were given a partner (a human one mind you), and a small sheet of glass with which to play with our new friends.

I was surrounded. I couldn't move, I couldn't breath. I knew, that I couldn't let anybody know that I was afraid. A classroom full of twelve year old boys knowing that I was afraid of snails would have landed me a lap full of those disgusting creatures.

I don't remember who my partner was that day. I don't recall what I was wearing, or what I had for lunch minutes before. But I can tell you that I will never ever forget my encounter with that snail. We set it on the glass, and looked underneath to watch the movement of the foot. Yuck. Then we fed it some grass or something, and we watched it eat. Double yuck. We poked at it's eye to watch it go back in . . . yuck again. That afternoon, ignoring every bead of sweat of my forehead - I became one with the snail.

I can't say that it cured me of the phobia, because I still panic when I see one - even today. But there was something remarkable about staying seated that day, knowing that there were dozens of them all around me. There were small ones, big ones, dark and light ones. Some were really slimy while others were just a tad bit moist. I cringe at the thought, even now.

All of my flashlight carrying days, I have never met another person who is afraid of snails. I just can't get that one figured out. There is nothing on this earth more disgusting if you ask me. I still can't figure out why God created such a vile looking creature. Anyone know?

My husband is the most wonderful man. He has never made fun of me about this. He has come to my rescue countless times, when I have found myself cornered by this mollusk. He has picked dozens of them up and tossed them away just to clear me a trail. Now that is what I call love.

I see God in my husband's chivalry. Sure, Mark knows that I am not in any real danger, but he sympathizes enough to play along with my insanity. He treats me with dignity and respect, even though I am being completely unreasonable.

I think God does the same kind of thing with us. We whine about this fear or that, when all the while what we are afraid of could never do us any real harm. The enemy of our souls is great a lying to us, and his sole purpose is to keep us fearful.

So what are you deathly afraid of? Does it have potential to cause you any real danger, or is your fear as ridiculous as mine?

Cry out to God, He doesn't care if you are in any real danger or not. He loves to step in and be the hero in your life . . .

one snail chuck at a time.