I was driving home the other night, when I noticed through the streetlights something moving across my windshield–eight little legs scurrying across from the INSIDE of my vehicle–every female’s horror. Needless to say, I had an unexpected little visitor…now I am by no means a spider expert, but this was not your typical black little jumping spider–this guy was big, brown and pacing his way back and forth trying to find a reasonable means of escape–right in my center vision.
I was suddenly caught in quite an icky predicament: stare too long at the road and I would start to lose sight of the whereabouts of my creepy crawler friend; but fix my gaze on his speedy little legs and I found myself swerving left and right over the street lane markers. It may sound silly, but my body switched to the “fight or flight mode”, and my keen internal survival instincts kicked in–as I also prayed that the stupid spider didn’t fall on my face as he began to propel from his web now rooted in the corner of my door frame. In that moment, as I watched him swing to and fro while the movement of the car jostled his suspension, I carefully cracked my side window as an attempt to “swing” him outside with the passing wind–either that or hint at the little fella–“hey man! Outside is this way!”
After a few minutes of repeatedly shifting my focus over from him to the road, then to the window, he finally managed to make his way close enough to the presented opening crevice and a gentle breeze swooped him out into the night air (probably more like on top of my car roof, but regardless at least he was outside.) In my sigh of relief, I realized that in those few moments, we were both essentially helpless to some extent. He was reliant on me to allow him the means of escape, and I was reliant on him to follow through with my lead. But it is also in perceived “helpless” moments such as these that we are also completely reliant on God. In that moment, I was challenged to balance my focus and remain calm to ensure safety and survival, for both myself and the frantic little spider. Not only did I have to think and act quickly, but I also had to take a risk, with hope that the proposed idea for both of our relief would all work out.
But even with the imagined possible horror of having the spider (potentially venomous/at least capable of biting) fall on top of me in the process, I took the chance knowing that if that were to happen, God would reveal to me the next course of action in due time. Very similar to life if you think about it…who would have thought that a little nighttime car ride excitement could actually teach me something about my own walk with God. Regardless of our current circumstances, He is always with us, and is capable of providing a solution to our current challenges if we trust to cling to him. And sometimes, when we devote too much of our time living in the future, he will send a little spider to run across our windshield, to remind us to pay attention to the present and to submit to His will each day.
My humbling little spidey experience taught me a very important lesson to walk away with (thank the Lord both scratch and spider-bite-free):
Don’t focus so much on the road ahead, that you fail to notice what’s right in front of you–or a spider may just end up falling right in your lap. Instead, keep your eyes lightly gazed upon the path ahead, while listening to God and trusting him with your present circumstances, holding fast to the faith in knowing that even in the occasional dim and confusing journeys, He will always lead you safely home.