Hunting is not one of those hobbies I list in my repertoire, but I’ve watched and read enough period dramas to get the gist of how a snare works.
It’s a sneaky process wherein the hunter calculatingly traps his prey. The animal’s habits and patterns are examined and a noose of cord laid on a path it’s bound to walk down. The loop tightens when stepped into, and no matter how much the creature struggles, it’s held fast by the trap.
In today’s Psalm (124:2-8), we’re likened to a bird trapped in the fowler’s snare. Satan, like the hunter, lies in wait, knowing our paths and habits of weakness. He plans a trap of temptation. And we step in it.
Growing up, I had ongoing tension in my relationship with my younger brother. He knew all the ways to get under my skin, and well into high school, I struggled with lashing back at him, arguing over the most inane things. I thought I possessed self-control, blaming those reactions on my annoying brother. Patience and kindness were certainly lacking in our interactions, and I was content to live stagnant in a place with no growth.
It’s easy to get into this place in many areas, content to flap a few inches above the trap, convinced you’re not bound by sin. But if you haven’t noticed, the more you tug on that knot, the tighter it squeezes you.
I’m happy to say the relationship between my brother and me has healed into a much stronger friendship over the years, but I still have those sins in my life I keep walking back into, sins holding me back from the freedom Christ offers.
Our Savior enters those well-worn paths of our life, gently reaching down and breaking the snares, the holds that sin has on us. He is the Great Physician, eager to heal the deepest wounds of our hearts and our souls. Take time to bring those sins to Him in Confession, and make a resolution to forge new patterns by building virtue to combat the snares in your life.
Our Savior enters those well-worn paths of our life. // Sarah OrtizClick to tweet
Pope Saint John Paul II placed a renewal of focus on the Sacrament of Reconciliation in this letter.
Sarah Ortiz is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother to four boys while living in a 200 year old farmhouse. When not folding laundry, she can be found reading, experimenting in the kitchen, or snagging amazing antique furniture deals. You can find out more about her here.
Walk With Us this Advent
Get Your Prayerful Planner
