charlotte's web

i sat alone for an hour. i cried over what--right now, i can't seem to face--is my life. i'm afraid. i can't really find anything that seems to be falling together. instead of life feeling as if God has it all in his hands, and i see it, i know it, it feels more as if he's behind a curtain. there is an end, but only God knows (literally) where it ends. everything is enshrouded with grey, with a blur. and then i looked behind me.

inbetween the strands of windblown hair on my face, i saw dozens and dozens of baby spiders. they were cradled in their dark little crevice of life because that was all they had ever known. it was their life. and then i followed the broken and tangled web farther up and i saw two then four then seven more baby spiders. all of them climbing higher and higher to a place they had never been before. some only reached halfway, some the top; however, all came to that point where the breeze would sweep them away from all they had ever known--to a new place. it made me think of charlotte's web. i don't remember too much of that movie, but i do remember charlotte's babies having to fly away from the only home they had ever experienced. i sat there taking picture after picture of a sight that captivated me for some reason. (i'm not exactly the biggest fan of spiders.) and then i had another thought. a slightly ground breaking thought. but only slightly. these little creepy crawlies had no say of where they went. they knew absolutely nothing. they were in the dark. i'm in the dark with where i'm headed. i realize that my mind and my life are maybe the opposite, upside down and inside out, of a spider's. that doesn't mean i can't learn from something like that.

i beheld them with my wet eyes and i just marveled at the grainsized bits crawling up and up. they were so delicate, and still, they would just let go. maybe--like in charlotte's web--they really weren't ready to leave. but they still had to. the wind gave them no choice. the fragile manner i saw them in changed to admiration. i had admiration for a tiny spider because that spider could do what i can't. he could let go. he could face up to growing up. he could go somewhere he'd never known. here i am. a human. the greatest thing God has ever created. (not me specifically. just man in general.) and i am still afraid of what God is doing behind his curtain. it makes sense because most of what has happened hasn't been sunshine and rainbows. it feels more like it has been perpetual heartbreak. but instead of growing stronger and forging though and ahead, i'm letting it get to me. i'm losing my courage, my joy, my confidence. i can't change that alone; i know that now. i don't even think the baby spiders could do it alone. they had dozens surrounding them to push ahead. i may not need dozens, but i need someone to help me. i think i have that. actually, i know i do.

and what amazes me more is how the ordinary is what brings about the greatest realizations. this sight was tiny. the first spider i saw fly away into the sky, i thought was only a tiny piece of pollen or a piece of a broken leaf. a spider was the farthest thing from my mind. and then i saw more and i knew what it was. something ordinary that has happened for years and year and years. not only ordinary but a tiny detail of how the earth goes round that is always overlooked. i recently read a book that said "you can't let your fear stop you. you have to let it move you and move beyond it. sometimes the most natural things, the things that don't seem risky, are the most supernatural; they sneak up on you." and as i read that again, i'm letting fear stop me. i'm not letting it move me so i can be beyond it. that is why i have admiration for tiny spiders. because they did that. and i see what i can't do in something so natural. forever, spiders have, are, and will be doing this same thing when they are born. yet, it still is supernatural. it all is unknown. if i can do this, letting fear move me, i think i will be able to prove that man is God greatest work. he put a lot into us, and by recognizing and trying to rise above my fear--go beyond it--i can live up to showing that i am his greatest work. i can show the intricacy he made by showing that my heart was made to shatter until there is no escape from brokenness--and then be healed--that my skin was formed merely to fall down and tear, blood making himself known--and then be healed. i think knowing that, living that, is what will make me what i want to be.