The word “weasel” lends itself well to mental pictures. Imagine what a psychiatrist could do with such a word.

To “weasel out” is to escape duty or avoid consequences. “Weasel-eyed” describes a sly, sneaky look. Being called a weasel is getting close to “snake in the grass.”

When I was a child growing up on a farm, weasels were known to raid our chicken house. Besides killing chickens, they had a canny way of sucking an egg dry, leaving the shell intact. It’s an odd feeling when you pick up an empty egg.

We once had a weasel take up housekeeping in our wood pile. My father warned my sisters and me to watch out for him. “He’s a fearless little critter,” Dad said, “and he seems to want a fight.”

So when I gathered eggs or wood, I often thought of this little animal – slender body, long head, round muzzle bearing 34 teeth. His coat was brown; not much to brag about. For his size, he was quite courageous, occasionally attacking cows and even horses.

Similar to a skunk, the weasel has glands that secrete a strong smelling substance. But I wouldn’t lower myself to say he stinks.

The other day I ran across an amazing fact – even a weasel can be beautiful. With winter, the coat can turn completely white except for the end of the tail, which is black. When this happens the animal is no longer called a weasel, but an ermine. Suddenly, it becomes regal, hunted by those who wish to sport his beautiful covering. The ermine fur has long stood for the majestic. In medieval times its use was restricted to royalty. The black tail tips attached in rows became decorative trims. Ermine is very soft. If ever someone owned an ermine coat he or she was indeed “upper crust.” For centuries that fur was sought, even more so than mink, as the pelts are smaller and scarcer.

Ermine are seen in Idaho, but much more plenteous further north where the winters are harsher. In fact, the further north, the better the fur.

I see a parallel between the weasel and the human person. Without faith in God and a greater, loving plan for our lives we, like the weasel, can be prone to fighting, stealing, killing, sneakiness and downright meanness – out to protect our “rights” and snatch our piece of the action. But when Christ comes into our lives we begin a process of becoming purified. Strangely enough, the greater our hardships, the more opportunities for refinement. Covered with the purity of his righteousness, we become a “new creature in Christ.” At baptism, we even receive a new name. But like the weasel who retains a black tail tip, we continue to struggle with the mark of sin. There is always that “little black tail” waving around, as a reminder: Only by God’s grace can we become pure, “without spot or wrinkle.” Through Him, the old nature of burlap brown is changed, becoming white as snow. So, when I think of the weasel I am reminded that nothing is impossible with God.

~~ The theme might be “don’t weasel out on God.” ~~

Joy Le Page Smith is a Board certified clinical chaplain, mental health counselor, author of four books, and motivational speaker. She can be contacted by entering a comment below .

Joy Le Page Smith published in Today’s Herald-News, Nov. 8, 2019