It has been awhile since it happened. Allow me a moment to recollect.

I do recall relaxing in the recliner. Holding our then toddler after having rocked him until sleep had found him. It was early Summer. June. July. Somewhere in that era. Nonetheless the air was hot and sticky. One of the eldest children came dashing into the room in a frantic frenzy. “A snake was spotted in the coop”. Reluctantly, I laid our youngest in the bed and took my time putting on my shoes. I am certain that there was a sigh and an eye roll or two. I was too comfortable to be bothered by this. After all, this was not the first time that a little worm snake had found its way in. I figured that by the time that I would arrive down there that the chickens would have eaten it.

I had walked through the yard towards the run, inquiring of its whereabouts. Looking at the ground I did not see it. Maybe one of the chickens did eat it after all? Then I looked over towards the side of the wire wall. Stretched out was a six foot black snake. Maybe longer. I was not intending on measuring it. I had my son get the BB gun. I shot at it as it had slithered up the face of the coop towards the door. I could not let it get in. I hit it in the head a few times. I shot myself with ricochet more than that. I think I almost shot my eye out like Ralphie. The Snake was not happy with me. It turned and made its way towards us. I continued to shoot at it through the gap in the door to the run. It kept lurching toward my son, trying to take a bite. Luckily we were protected by hardware cloth. Then it turned away and started making its way to the other side of the run. I knew that I needed to end this. Black snakes are good. Yes. But not when they have discovered a free meal in the hen house. I had my son bring me whatever blunt object was the closest. A mattock! I entered the run just behind The Snake and began to wail away. Maybe there was a shovel involved here as well. I cannot remember clearly. I beat it in its head. Pummeling. Chopping. Like a mad man. Blood and egg yolk began to run down the 2×4 supports. Its head no longer recognized by the human eye. Or any eye for that matter. The battle was won. The chickens thanked me with an egg.

I grabbed the rake and lifted the lifeless body out. The hens cheering me on with multiple clucks and whatever other racket that they can muster. My it was heavy! Probably from all of the eggs that it swallowed whole. I carried it up to the rear deck to show the rest of the family (pictured below). Then I left the back yard to toss it out into the front field for whatever scavenging wildlife that was suffering from ravenous hunger. As I was walking down the driveway, the neighbor lady was on her porch and caught me in conversation. We were talking about… snakes, of course. As we were talking, I looked down at The Snake and noticed that its mouth started moving. Then its jaw stared twisting and contorting. Within a moments breath its head had completely reformed to its original state. The Snake had regained its life. It practically resurrected on the end of the rake. I immediately turned the rake over and slammed the tines down into the ground, trapping it. My son brought me the shovel and I started to hack away at its head. It was like trying to cut a waterhose. It was tough. Finally I shoved the end of the shovel behind its head and jumped on the back side of the blade. Head severed. I scooped up the head and tossed it into the left side of the field. The body to the right side. No more resurrection.

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”

-The Apostle Peter

The Enemy. Does he not remind us of The Snake? He sneaks in with the intention to devour. To destroy. He has no regard to what destruction lies in his wake. Who is affected. Who is hurt. He just seeks his own. Feeding his selfish appetite. Doing what he does best. Going to and fro upon the earth. Blood on his hands. Blood on his teeth. Smiling his crooked smile as he slithers away. Screams. Cries. Groans. They all feed him. They are all soothing sounds to his ears. His lullaby.

We are mistaken. Some bad theology somewhere told us that his defeat in the Spiritual War is simple and effortless. That all that we have to do is stare into the dark void and proclaim sternly “Devil! In the name of Jesus I demand that you get behind me!” We picture him snapping his fingers like Swiper and going “Aww man!”. As if he has reason to listen to us. As long as this broken body of Flesh adorns us he will always have a crack to chip away at. Yet, in the moment of such a proclamation, we feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. Do we not? However, it is not that we have won. That victorious euphoria that we feel is temporal. It is a high in knowing that we belong to The One. The Light. But in that moment that The Shadow of The Enemy is no longer cast upon us, it is not because he has been defeated. No. It is in that moment that he is regrouping. Now that we have seen his scheme he is changing direction. From behind. From the Dark. While we sleep. The element of surprise. He never goes away.  He never stays gone. He always returns. Always.

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.”

-Christ Jesus

So then how do we gain victory? If we cannot scare him off by the proclamation of Christ and the demand that he departs, then what is our weapon? Our mattock if you will. It is to set our focus on The One. The only One. The Way… The Truth… and The Life. To be upon our knees and in The Word when The Storm comes. To focus our eyes upon The Light of The Son when Darkness permeates our Dawn. To cry out in desperation. To reach our hands in praise. To rend the Heavens with our prayers and echo through the corridors where Angels trod. To let Them know that we are here. That we are His and He is our sustenance as the ground gives way. Suspended by His hand.

“Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”

-James the Apostle

“…Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail…”

-Christ Jesus 

It is then that The Enemy will know that we cannot be moved as we turn our backs to him with our faces prostrate before The Throne. Unshakable. Unwavering. Untouchable. Our resistance to him. He will not go away. He will not give up. He will, however, notice that we are impenetrable. That his attacks only chip away a fragment of our Faith. And what little he takes regenerates by The Healing Hand. Enjoy watching him exhaust himself in frustration. His constant losing battle. His broken record. His own vicious cycle.

Because your Faith lies in The One that stomps his head into the pit of Hell.

“And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel.”

-Moses, from the Book of Genesis