Never did I think I would write a devotional about snakes, but here we are!
I remember a time when my son owned probably 10 snakes or more. Every time he bought a new one, he wanted to show me the different kind, the colors and patterns, and then proceeded to let the thing wrap around his arm or neck.
Yeah…that was one show-and-tell this mama wanted NO part of!
I’ve always thought snakes were slimy, creepy, sly, and dangerous. I even put worms in the snake category because, in my mind, they’re just baby snakes.
I remember being younger and walking out my front door and there it was—an anaconda staring at me!
Okay, okay…it was actually about a four-foot black racer. But in MY eyes, that thing was HUGE! I screamed, it took off, and I still don’t know who was more afraid—me or that slimy little evil serpent!
So how did I go from being terrified of snakes to writing a devotional about them?
My spouse and I recently found ourselves talking about some of our old ways, behaviors, and patterns and how much we’ve both changed over the years. We started reminiscing about the early years of our marriage—two broken and fragile young people trying to do adult things while absolutely convinced we knew it all.
He compared some of the hard seasons we’ve endured throughout the longevity of our marriage to a snake shedding its skin.
Well, that got my wheels turning…
Let’s talk about shedding.
The Shedding Process
One thing I learned about snakes is that younger snakes shed more frequently because they are growing rapidly, while adult snakes typically shed less often.
That immediately made me think about the different seasons of our lives.
When I look back over the years, I can see seasons where my spouse and I were growing and other seasons where, quite frankly, we weren’t. Then there were seasons when circumstances forced us to confront things within ourselves that we probably would have preferred to leave alone.
Old behaviors.
Old ways of thinking.
Old wounds.
Old responses.
Things that may have worked—or at least helped us survive—in one season, but could not go with us into the next.
Sometimes what once fit us simply doesn’t fit anymore.
When the Vibrancy Begins to Fade
Before a snake sheds, its skin begins to look dull and faded. The vibrant coloring it once had isn’t as noticeable.
Have you ever experienced a season like that?
You don’t quite feel like yourself anymore.
Something happened—a disappointment, loss, transition, betrayal, unexpected circumstance, or simply a change in life—and suddenly you feel as though some of your vibrancy has disappeared.
The things that once worked don’t seem to work anymore.
The person you used to be doesn’t quite fit where God is taking you.
Sometimes we automatically assume something is wrong because things don’t look or feel the way they once did.
But what if the dullness isn’t the end?
What if something new is already developing underneath?
When Our Vision Becomes Clouded
As a snake prepares to shed, its eyes can temporarily become cloudy because fluid develops between the old and new layers of skin.
This part really spoke to me.
How many times have we walked through seasons where our own vision became clouded?
We couldn’t recognize our triggers.
We didn’t understand why we responded the way we did.
Trauma, wounds, disappointment, fear, pride, and old core beliefs distorted what we were seeing.
Sometimes everyone around us can see what’s happening—but we can’t.
I’ve certainly had moments when God was trying to reveal something in me, but I couldn’t see it because there were still some scales over my eyes.
And sometimes when we can’t see clearly, we assume everyone else is the problem.
Whew! That one hurts a little.
When Vulnerability Makes Us Hide
During the shedding process, snakes may hide more and become defensive because their vision is impaired. They are vulnerable because they can’t see clearly.
Doesn’t that sound a little like us?
How often do we hide when we’re vulnerable?
We pull away because we’re afraid of what someone might see.
We isolate.
We become defensive.
And sometimes when somebody gets a little too close to that tender place, we strike.
We become irritated.
Offended.
Defensive.
We push people away.
Not necessarily because that person is our enemy, but because something inside of us feels exposed.
Sometimes the people closest to us experience the reaction from a wound they didn’t even create.
I’ve had seasons where things were surfacing in me that I didn’t want to look at more deeply. And I certainly didn’t want anyone else pointing them out!
So I hid.
I became offended.
Pride stepped in.
And sometimes I struck back.
But God wasn’t trying to expose me to shame me.
He was revealing something because He wanted to heal and change it.
Then Comes the Friction
Eventually, the snake begins rubbing against rough surfaces—rocks, branches, wood—anything that can help loosen the old skin so it can finally come off.
And this is the part that fascinated me the most.
The shedding requires friction.
Oh, how I wish all my unhealthy behaviors, old mindsets, wounds, pride, fears, and patterns would just fall off effortlessly!
Unfortunately, mine haven’t worked that way.
Some of my greatest shedding has happened through friction.
Hard conversations.
Difficult seasons.
Marriage.
Parenting.
Relationships.
Disappointments.
Correction.
Therapy.
And those special people God has strategically placed in my life who loved me enough to call something out that I couldn’t yet see for myself.
And yes, sometimes I got offended.
Sometimes pride kicked in.
Sometimes I thought, “Well, they just don’t understand.”
Sometimes I hid.
But looking back, I can see that God was using some of those uncomfortable places to help loosen something that needed to come off.
The very friction I wanted God to remove was sometimes the friction He was using to help me shed.
Something New Was Already Underneath
Here’s the beautiful part about the entire process.
The new skin doesn’t suddenly appear after the old skin comes off.
It was developing underneath all along.
That sat with me.
Because sometimes when we’re in an uncomfortable season, all we can see is what we’re losing.
Who we’re no longer able to be.
What no longer works.
What God is asking us to release.
What relationship is changing.
What behavior He’s confronting.
What old belief we can no longer carry.
And we don’t always recognize that while something old is coming off, God may already be developing something new underneath.
Maybe you’re looking at yourself in this season thinking:
“I don’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Why does everything feel uncomfortable?”
“Why are these old things suddenly surfacing?”
“Why does it feel like God is pressing on this particular area?”
“Why am I experiencing so much friction?”
Maybe everything isn’t falling apart.
Maybe something is shedding.
The old beliefs.
The old responses.
The old wounds.
The old survival patterns.
The old version of you that God is lovingly saying:
“You don’t need this where I’m taking you.”
What Has Attached Itself to You?
Something else about shedding caught my attention. Shedding can also help snakes remove parasites and other things that may have attached themselves to the old skin.
Immediately, I thought about the things that attach themselves to us.
Core beliefs.
Triggers.
Labels.
Fear.
Shame.
Rejection.
Control.
People-pleasing.
Things we’ve carried for so long that we’ve stopped recognizing them as something that attached itself to us and started believing they were simply who we are.
“I’m not enough.”
“Nobody will ever choose me.”
“I have to keep everyone happy.”
“I have to stay in control.”
“I can’t trust anyone.”
“If I say no, they’ll be upset with me.”
“This is just who I am.”
But what if it isn’t who you are?
What if it’s simply something you’ve been carrying?
Sometimes we’ve carried something for so long that we’ve mistaken what attached itself to us for our identity.
But God knows the difference.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” — 2 Corinthians 5:17
Maybe shedding isn’t punishment.
Maybe it’s evidence that growth is occurring.
We Don’t Shed Just Once
There are still things God is shedding from me, and I’m sure there will be more.
Because just like a snake doesn’t shed once and never shed again, neither do we.
As we grow, there will continually be things that no longer fit.
New seasons expose different things.
Relationships expose things.
Marriage exposes things.
Parenting exposes things.
Loss exposes things.
Success can even expose things.
And God continues His work in us.
Perhaps maturity isn’t reaching a place where we never need another shedding season.
Perhaps maturity is learning to recognize one and being willing to say:
“Okay, God. Show me what can’t go with me into this next season.”
Heart Check
So, what phase are you currently in?
Are you in a dull season where you don’t quite recognize yourself?
Has your vision become clouded by wounds, triggers, fear, disappointment, or old beliefs?
Are you hiding because something feels too vulnerable to expose?
Have you been striking at people who get too close to something tender?
Are you experiencing friction that you’ve been asking God to remove when perhaps He’s using it to loosen something that needs to come off?
Or maybe you’re finally watching something old fall away and beginning to see the new thing God has been developing underneath all along.
Take some time and ask:
Lord, what am I holding onto that no longer fits who You are calling me to become?
What has attached itself to me that I’ve mistaken for part of my identity?
And what are You asking me to shed in this season?
Then have the courage to let Him show you.
Because maybe the uncomfortable pressure we are trying so hard to escape is the very thing God is using to help us grow.
Maybe everything isn’t falling apart.
Maybe it’s time to shed.
Happy Shedding!
And just so we’re clear…
I’m still NOT holding a snake.
Keep carrying hope,
Sandy
Carriers of Hope
Breathing Hope, One Life at a Time