It was later one evening when three men entered the bush hospital where I worked. Two were supporting the third who kept one of his legs off the ground. Their sandals and clothes looked like they held the dust of miles. Briefly I noticed that one of the lame man’s friends grasped a well worn walking staff, and the other held a small can of coffee. (I mused that if I was going to trek through the bush for hours, I’d like coffee, too.) 

My interpreter wasn’t there, so I beckoned them with my hand to move under the electric light so I could see more clearly. The injured man’s ankle was only slightly swollen. Why, I thought, would these tough African men travel so far for a sprained ankle?

Then, as one of the friend’s poured out the contents of the coffee can, the situation became all too clear. A dead snake landed on the floor. I jumped back while my mind registered the reality of the situation: this wasn’t just a minor injury. We were dealing with a deadly snake bite. I needed to call the doctor.

Often when I work with women hobbled by pain, I can make inaccurate assumptions like I did in that bush hospital years ago (does anyone want some coffee?). I see or hear the hurt caused by her current circumstance, but I miss what is going on deep within her heart. I do this with myself, too. I blame my pain on what is going on around me, but I tend to miss if there is a darker current of sin running through my own soul. 

Our Great Physician is the only One who can see the whole picture. He came to heal the brokenhearted. He came to bind up wounds in such a way as to bring complete healing. Yes, He can use me (and you!) to be the friend that brings others to Him, yet I need to remember that no matter how much I want to help (or heal) myself, I don’t have that power. I need to call out to Jesus so I can see the whole picture under the light of His word. He is the only One who can heal the bite of the snake.