Spider!

I'm going to start off this report by telling you about a little miracle that happened to me on Sunday, August 19, 2007 at Church Under the Bridge (CUB), a weekly church service offered as part of a ministry to the street people here in Austin, Texas where I live, which takes place literally under a highway bridge downtown, across the street from the local police station. In addition to regular attendance and other forms of participation, I help a friend who has a supplemental ministry that involves preparing and distributing, among other things, bags of hygiene items to the homeless for whom such things are an uncommon luxury. That day she'd planned a distribution and I'd promised to help. 

By way of a little background I should mention I have a serious spider phobia, have had it since childhood. I'm terrified of spiders. Terrified. Embarrassing at my age, but well, there it is. I know it makes no sense but then that's the nature of phobias. So that morning around 9:45 am, getting ready to leave for CUB, I had slipped into my shoes (the non-tie, easy slipon kind), which were by the back door, and started into the kitchen to head out to the garage when the middle toe on my right foot started hurting, then really HURTING!

"Darnit," I thought, fire ants," and impatiently pulled off my right shoe only to see a huge wolf spider fall out of it and scurry off across the kitchen floor.

At that my heart nearly stopped, then started racing at what felt like a thousand beats a minute. I felt like I'd die on the spot from horror and fright, to think that THING was in my SHOE and on my FOOT and biting me in the TOE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I feel shaky even now just thinking and writing about it. There was a small spot of blood on my toe where the spider had bitten me.


Do you know what wolf spiders look like? Check out the photo above. It's a dead ringer. Know how big they can get? Well, they can get up to 4 inches or more in diameter. The particular specimen in my shoe that day was about two inches across, including the legs, more than big enough to terrify me.

So after being dumped out of my shoe and scurrying off, the offending beast stopped beside the dishwasher, glaring at me with malice I was sure. Giving it a wide berth, I fearfully hopped past it on my left foot that was still in a shoe, fully expecting an attack (some experts say these things are aggressive, you know), and grabbed the bug spray off the laundry room shelf, only to find on turning back that the spider had disappeared. Oh no! Carefully, at arm's length, fearful it would spring out at any second from under the dishwasher or stove or fridge or wherever it had gone to reconnoiter, I did my best to spritz some bug spray into all the little possible crevices, trying not to spray too much lest I poison my poor cat instead.

Then I felt my hurting toe again and, so rattled I couldn't remember any of my first aid training, rushed to my office computer where I shakily and frantically googled "spider bite first aid," locating some instructions involving ice and alcohol and antibiotic ointments. I learned that though wolf spiders aren't considered dangerous, they can nevertheless inflict a very nasty bite, which can take a week to ten days to heal, might make you sick with swollen glands and such, and there might be a danger of secondary infection.

Off I sped to the bathroom (mind you, this was still probably less than ten minutes after I was bitten), where I put my foot up on the counter and was horrified to see my toe already swollen to nearly twice its normal size, red, throbbing, with red streaks beginning to creep from it up toward the top of my foot, and a hole in my skin left by that beast's fang, a hole where that drop of blood was. Oh, I was in a tizzy I tell you, beside myself, breathless, frantic, shaking.

I swabbed my toe with alcohol, smeared it with some antibiotic ointment, put on a bandaid - very loosely since I didn't know how much more the toe would swell - popped some Olive Leaf Extract and Vitamin C and in a sort of panicked daze went back to the kitchen, shook out my shoe, put it back on, fearfully looked around to see if the spider had reappeared and, not finding it, went out to the garage, got in the car and headed out to CUB. I barely remember the drive, though I do recall thinking, "Oh dear, oh dear, what am I doing? I should have stayed home and put some ice on my foot." But I had it in mind that I'd promised my friend, so I continued on.

After fifteen minutes or so I arrived, got out and found my friend, who took one look at me and knew something was wrong. "What's the matter?" she asked.

I was still shaking all over, but managed to spill out the story and took off my shoe to display my red, swollen toe with the red streaks running up my foot. I was scared about the bite, scared it might make me really sick or get infected or heaven only knows what, but I still don't know if I was more upset about the actual bite or about the spider itself or both or what.

By that time a few more friends had gathered around and heard the story, offering sympathy and suggestions. After listening to all kinds of advice ranging from "You need to get to the emergency room" to "You need to go home and put some ice on it," one woman piped up and said, "Why don't we pray?" Extraordinary idea, don't you think?

The next thing I knew there were four or five people putting their arms around me. They started praying, first for me to calm down - and as they prayed I did feel a peace come over me that slowed my racing heart and steadied my still-shaking hands. And then they prayed that there would be no ill effects from the bite and that God would take care of it and me. When they finished, one of the women, the one who'd suggested prayer, smiled and said with great confidence, "You're going to be fine." And actually my foot was hurting less.

So I stayed for the service and left around 1:30 pm, went by the post office to mail a letter and got home around 2:30. When I walked into the kitchen, fearfully wondering where that dreadful creature might be lurking, the first thing I saw was my arachnid attacker lying curled up and dead beside the baseboard under the sink, next to the rug, a couple of feet over from the dishwasher. Guess the bug spray had done its job after all. Even dead and curled up that thing was still more than an inch-and-a-half across. I shuddered, glad it was dead but unable as yet to bring myself to get close enough to pick it up. I thought I'd better go have a look at my toe first, which surprisingly really wasn't hurting at all at that moment.

In the bathroom I took off my shoe and noticed right away that the swelling seemed to be down and there were no red streaks on my foot. I stuck my foot up on the counter, carefully cut off the bandaid and in utter amazement stared at my perfectly white, completely sound toe with not a mark on it. Nothing. No hole, not even a dot to show where it had been, no swelling, no redness, no blood, no streaks, just a normal toe that looked just like all the others. I stared and stared, blinking and shaking my head. Then I got a magnifying glass and even with that could not see any sign of a bite mark, none at all.

God had healed my toe.

I don't know how long I stood there just gaping at my toe in absolute amazement. Astounded, I thanked God over and over again. I'd heard of people being healed of various things, who hasn't? But nothing like this had ever happened to me before.

I first tried to call my friend but she didn't answer so I left her a gushing message. Then I called my son to tell him the story. He was happy for me but not even surprised. He said he's experienced some amazing things too. But when I told him about finding that spider dead, he said, in his slow, dry drawl, "Well Mom, God not only healed your toe, he avenged it!" I laughed out loud at that. I guess so! Then my delighted friend called back and said she couldn't stop grinning at my flabbergasted, jubilant message, and had saved it to play for our other friend, the one who had known I'd be all right.

"For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal," declares the Lord. Jeremiah 30:17