Such is the destiny of all who forget God; so perishes the hope of the godless. What he trusts in is fragile; what he relies on is a spider’s web. He leans on his web, but it gives way; he clings to it, but it does not hold. Job 8:13-15 (NIV)
I sit a lot at the river. I am either in a tube, a kayak or canoe or on the dock. This year, I invested in a pair of really nice lounge chairs. I didn’t pay the highest price I saw (who would have thought that folding chairs could cost several hundred dollars?), but I did not buy the plastic $8.00 ones that break the first time you sit in them. The webbed ones I chose were a little more than $8.00, but proved to be comfortable and sturdy enough to last all week and hopefully for years to come. When one spends ten hours a day on their substantial butt, they want something that holds that derriere nicely. I start out the day and early afternoon in the water, but by late afternoon, the sun casts shadows on our side of the river, so I get out of the 72 degree water and into my lounge chair. That is the extent of my day’s work. Roll out of the tube, swim to shore, climb the ladder to the dock and ease myself into the chair. Such a life. One afternoon, as husband and I reclined and watched the water flow with its green grass undulating in a hypnotic wave, I noticed a line in front of my eyes. I thought at first it was a stray hair until I realized mine was still plastered back into a pony tail, damp from swimming. I reached out to grab it and missed. Looking cross-eyed, I saw that it was a strand of a spider’s web connecting my husband and me. We sat still for so long, a spider tried to tether us together into her home. I looked up and saw her swaying above me on a long thin thread. She started out from a tree high above us and like a paratrooper dropped in silently and stealthily. While I sympathized with her work, I did not appreciate being mistaken for an inantimate object even if I did resemble one. I reached out and broke the cord that she had worked so hard to construct. She came back for another attempt, but I shooed her away and she swung back up into the tree to find another anchor for her web. Sometimes, while I sit by the river, I scheme of ways that I could live there for ever. Unfortunately, my solution usually involves winning the lottery which I never play. I could spend all my time being miserable about the fact that I only get one week a year to enjoy the river’s beauty and serenity. The rest of the year, I have to work to earn my keep. I cannot build my life on fantasy, but there is something solid and lasting upon which I can hang my life. While, it is not a spider’s web, it is the One who created both the spider and me. On the river or at home in real life, He never fails.