The Snare
of the Fowler
Surely he
shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler. . . .
-- Psalm 91:3a
Our friend Bob has an unusual hobby: he's a
falconer. He knows how to go out and trap a prairie falcon, and then
practically shack up with it for a few months to get it to trust him so that
it'll fly for him.
It's a timeless, fascinating skill. He uses a
jess (leg strap), gloves, hoods and leather pouch lures with meat inside. He
gives the bird lots of attention, grooming and of course, great food.
He has built a cage that's more of a luxury
habitat. And yes, after the training and togetherness and fulfillment and fun,
he eventually retrains the bird NOT to trust him so much, and releases it back
to the wild.
It never ceases to amaze me, though, how a bird
of prey can get tricked into falling for his initial trap. I mean, aren't they supposed
to have eyesight that's lots better than ours? Don't they see what they're
getting in to? Aren't they smarter than that?
But then, look at our own lives. Don't we fall
for traps ourselves, all the time?
I think it's because there's a Fowler - the
Enemy of our souls - who likes to "fowl" things up for us and keep us from
God's best.
He knows us very well. He knows our weaknesses
and what'll grab us. He's got his obvious traps, of alcoholism and drug
addiction, murder and sexual immorality. He uses them to get us stuck like an
animal in a cage, trapped and helpless.
For those of us who can resist the National Enquirer type sins, he's got
more subtle kinds of traps. They don't make the papers and they're not as
flashy, but they get us into bondage nonetheless.
For me, the temptation has always been to take
on too much. Too many writing assignments, too many volunteer duties, too many
meetings and tasks. I would get exhausted and cranky, and my family would go
without mother love, sweetness and light. What kind of a Christian example is
that?
Turns out a friend of mine battles workaholism,
too. Last weekend, she spilled her guts about it. She works full-time, has a
husband and two kids, keeps a spotless house, is good about visiting her older
relatives, and does all kinds of volunteer work besides.
Her weekends have gradually gotten completely
eaten up by obligations. She shared that she was about to go "TILT!"
So I was glad to be able to tell her this story:
Years ago, a wise friend suggested that I make a
list of all the things that were stressing me, and get rid of the things that weren't
absolute "musts." It came to almost 90 items. I pared it down to 30. I made
call after call to cancel various promises and projects. To my surprise and
relief, not a single person squawked. They all understood. It happens. I
resolved to never let myself get so tied down again.
Years later, someone I knew a long time ago
called out of the blue to ask me to ghost-write a promotional book about a
corporate leader. The project would be time-consuming, but it would pay very
well.
The only problem was, the subject was not all
that interesting to me. OK, it was a SNORE! And I had committed myself to
writing only to glorify Jesus and His principles. This would be a puff piece.
It would divert me from my main calling, which is writing stories about
Christian living and education, and taking care of my family, not necessarily
in that order.
But the guy who asked me was sooooo persuasive
and made it sound sooooo lucrative and enticing, flattering me that it would
get reviewed in the Wall Street Journal
and stuff. Whoa!
I told him I'd have to think about it.
You knew this was coming: I picked up my Bible
that night. It flipped right open to Psalm 91:3, about the need to avoid "the
snare of the fowler," which I didn't remember reading before.
A slow smile spread across my face. Why? Because
the last name of the guy who had asked me to do the book was . . . Fowler.
As in, avoid his "snare." Of course, HE didn't
see his offer as a trap. But I sure did.
Next morning, I called him: thanks, but no
thanks.
I escaped the trap of busy work! I was free to
write what I wanted! I felt so light, I could fly.
Yeah, well, until the next trap is laid for me.
You know, Satan is an odd bird, strangely persistent. You've got to watch him
like a hawk. †
