As my nurse friends and I  peered into the display case we first tried to figure out what it was we were looking at. The informational display case had recently been redone and laying before us was an unusual object, dry and fragile in appearance, slightly transparent but not. As we all walked closer to the glassed front display case, we all seemed to realize simultaneously what it was we were looking at, a shed snake skin. The specimen before us  had once been the outer covering of a snake. 

The skin was large and all I could think at the time was, “That is one big ol’ timber rattler.” There was a collective “Eww!” once we all realized what it was we were looking at, and without verbally communicating it, we moved quickly past the glasses in case outlining snake bite first aid. 

I do not love a snake, not even a little bit, but as I walked briskly away from the shed snake skin a recent conversation was brought back to my remembrance.

I had just come in from my morning quiet time.

“Oh I love a good snake bite!” 

The older Lady sitting next to me took a swig of her coffee.

Her eyes big as saucers she said, “Why?” Her “why” had three syllables and an air of disbelief and disgust woven within it.

Earlier that morning I had made my way to the outdoors for my quiet time just as the sun was illuminating the sky with dark pinks and yellows. The day was new and the sunrise over the lake promised that day to be a good one. It would be a day full of fun, just as the previous camp days had been good. Those days are days of smiles and laughter, boating, crafts, swimming, snacks and things good summer days are made up of.

I was sitting on the back deck, talking to the King when I spied a fast moving head in the water below. I thought initially it was a turtle having come to the surface for air and breakfast. I peered deeper into the clear water and realized it was a snake swimming as he crawled with a swiftness and silence that just barely broke the stillness of the water. 

I was telling my camp colaborers about the snake encounter as they drank their coffees. 

It was then I said the comment about loving a good snakebite.

Over the long career of pediatric nursing I have encountered many a snakebite victim. By the time I’ve met them, the snakebite victim is usually in the healing and recovery phase, and while they are still in need of anti-venom and subsequent lab monitoring they are mostly mending. 

It isn’t that I love that a kid has been bitten by a snake, I hate that. But it’s just I love a good story and those snake bite kiddos always have a good story. I tried desperately to explain this to my puzzled cohorts.

It was then I said a fact I knew and understood for quite sometime but had until that moment not fully wrapped my brain around the spiritual lesson.

“Crofab, the antivenom we typically give IV (intravenously) is made of sheep’s blood.” I’ve often wondered how that was discovered, and I love that in His wisdom and perfection the King designed the natural world in just such a way that the healing of an otherwise devastating, deadly, detrimental bite can be cured by the blood of the Lamb.

It amazes me that I’m His wisdom and in a foreshadowing in the everyday modern medical world God gives us a picture of redemption. 

The blood of the Lamb alone could cure the bite of sin from the serpent. Snakes aren’t my favorite, I avoid them if possible, the them being snakes for they are a reminder of that first mention of a serpent who tricked our first mom and dad into believing God was holding out on them. The first venom sting of the serpent, known as sin, reverberating throughout time causing pain and suffering to humanity, yet all along the Lamb would come to redeem and restore what the serpent tried to take.