Once when we were living in Booneville, a few of us kids decided to take a walk to the creek behind our house. We had to walk through some woods to get to it.
Rachel and I ran upstairs to get our shoes on, and we decided to wear flip-flops since it was so hot! We quickly slipped them on and ran down the stairs.
We reached the hallway at almost the same time that Daddy entered it from the livingroom. When He saw us running to the door, he asked us where we were going, we hurriedly told him that we were taking a walk to the creek! Daddy looked down at our feet and said, “I’d really rather y’all wear sneakers.” So we raced back upstairs, pulled on some socks and sneakers, flew down the stairs and finally out into the yard!
The others were already out there waiting for us, so as soon as Rachel and I reached the group everybody headed toward the woods. Timothy and I were in the lead, talking as we hurried on. We hadn’t even gotten out of our yard when I felt something strange under my feet! Looking down, I saw, to my horror, a big, fat snake! Daniel saw it and hollered, but it was too late. I screamed and jumped back, the snake struck, and clamped his mouth over the front of my sneaker, inside of which were five tensed little toes. I was scared to death!
Then, just as quickly as it had happened, the snake droped off and slithered away.
Everyone thronged around me as I ran toward the house as fast as I could. I limped slightly, it just seemed like the thing to do. And when I got inside, I threw my shoes off and hastily began searching my foot for two small holes. Daddy and Mom rushed in and checked, too. We didn’t find any. Daddy went out with a hoe and looked for the snake, but it was gone. For a long time after that, we girls didn’t want to take any more walks!
I was really thankful that Daddy had told me to wear sneakers.
This is just one of the many times God has protected someone in our family through our authorities instructions.
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