Lessons of a Spider

This summer, especially the last few weeks, has been quite bittersweet. It is a closing of a chapter and the opening of a new one. I am saying goodbye to old friends and routines, and looking forward to starting a new life. It is a period of transition.

Late Thursday night I returned from the Arkansas River valley where I have worked for the CSU engineering department for over three and a half years. I go down to the valley about every month to collect water samples and gather data sets for several projects... it is good work, I work long days, and have hours by myself to think.

At one of the wells I was sampling this trip, after I had set up the equipment and was waiting for the water levels to stabilize, I noticed a spider near the well casing, beginning to spin a web. I must have torn through its old web as I set up, and it was beginning to repair its tattered home. I probably watched it for 10 minutes, mesmerized by the speed and confidence with which she worked. It was beautiful. She spun with the sure knowledge of which lines went where, just how many anchor lines to secure the more delicate sticky strands, running back and forth in her delicate dance. The movements looked chaotic up close, like she was just throwing out random webs, like silly string from her body. Then I pulled my focus back and was amazed to see an intricate spiral web like you see in children's books. I was glad I was not a fly just then.

I went back to reading the well data and taking samples, careful not to disturb the new web, and thought about my life. The strands of what has been my home and what has bound me in Fort Collins over the last 6 years have been slowly cut or are being broken. My old web is being torn down. There is pain, but there is promise.

The anchor lines that hold my web still remain. The lines that Christ has drawn cannot be parted, and insure that whatever my new web looks like over the coming months and years, He will still be the cornerstone from which all strands spring. Also, I will always have many of the old ties that I have built to friends and family to lean on and find joy. My web is not being consumed in a fire, it is being pruned. Certain parts are being removed in order that other lines may be drawn there... other relationships, experiences, and joys that I cannot yet imagine.

Though I am experiencing many sad partings, I have hope that I will weave under the watchful care of Christ, a brighter and more intricate web to His glory. To live this life is to spin, and I pray I may knit a beautiful dance, confident in His upholding hand.