If there is such a thing as the botanical spawn of Satan, poison ivy must surely be it.
In Genesis 3:17-18, after the fall of man, God cursed the ground and spoke of the malevolent change to plant life that would result from it. I cannot help but wonder if part of that curse was God turning to Satan and saying, “Invent a plant, and make it as evil as you like.”
That seems to be the only logical reason for the existence of a plant with all the pleasant sweetness of a constipated porcupine.
As you may suspect, I write this column having just experienced the ravages of said noxious weed. Please try not to get an itchy feeling as you hold this paper; I am fairly certain that it cannot be transmitted via email, which is how I send my columns in.
I am currently on the down side of the attack. It was a full week that I suffered, after spending a long hot Saturday clearing brush from a steep bank at the church. It only took 24 hours for the damage to begin making itself known, and soon I was scratching and questioning my will to live and scratching and praying and scratching and repenting of my sin and your sin and scratching.