Threads of Truth

Orb Weaver web outside my house in Papua New Guinea after a storm

Silver threads spanned the distance like a frail bridge. Diamonds gleamed along their lengths and shimmered in the pale light coming through the mist. What had been an invisible abode was now a colossal cathedral of glittering architecture that defied the genius of the greatest architects. I stood in awe as I gazed at the spiders’ webs outside my front door. They looked so fragile and delicate in the morning light and tiny drops of dew covered each slender thread as the owner of each abode hung silently from the center.

But I knew better. The day before I had been sitting in my house when a fierce storm had swept down over my roof and buffeted these webs with the force of a gale. It clawed at the webs mercilessly with wind and beat down on them with pounding rain. But the webs were unmoved. They bent, twisted and swayed with the wind but they were not destroyed. Even more astounding, the spiders at the center of each web did not budge during the storm. I expected them to scuttle away to find shelter under some ledge or in a hole. However, I was astounded to see that the spiders clung steadfastly to the webs and were not intimidated by the raging storm. Instead, they sat placidly in their webs as though on ships on the sea that were being rocked gently by the waves.

As I pondered this it made me think about my spiritual life. There are days I feel that my footing is about as solid as the silk in a spider’s web. Everything around me feels wobbly and frail and I sit the middle of what feels like a mess of tangled string. However, the fibers that make up my true home, my spiritual life, are strong and composed of what God has specifically designed to hold during sunshine and rain.  He has woven Himself and His character into everything that sustains me. Although at first glance it looks fragile enough to fall with the first puff of wind, by God’s grace my spirit holds strong even in the strongest storms and downpours.  And, what was invisible of that life before the storm becomes a glittering testimony to God’s strength as the fingerprints of the gale hang in drops from the silky beams of my spiritual house.

Looking at those webs I laughed about how God chooses to teach me His enduring truth through something as strange as spiders’ webs. But I haven’t forgotten their lesson and in the midst of my stormy days I cling to the threads of the truth about my Lord and I know that I will not only weather the storm but I will see the radiance of God’s beauty on the other side. 

(P.S. Wrote most of this post 6 Aug. 2016 while in Papua New Guinea)