The spider, dropping down from twig, Unfolds a plan of her devising, A thin premeditated rig To use in rising.
And all that journey down through space, In cool descent and loyal hearted, She spins a ladder to the place From where she started.
Thus I, gone forth as spiders do In spider’s web a truth discerning, Attach one silken thread to you For my returning. ~E.B. White “Natural History”
No matter where I go to complete farm chores this time of year, I’m getting a face full of spider web and often a spider or two or three in my hair. The spinners are very busy in the night dropping from rafters and branches, leaping courageously into uncharted territory with only their thread as rescue cable.
I am not so brave as they, nor as diligent. Instead, I’m lollygagging in the art gallery of their fine work, simply appreciating the abundant crop of silken ladders and hammocks, while trying not to destroy them.
I’m drawn back morning after morning to see what they’ve caught and how well they endure. As long as I keep my face out of their masterpiece, all is well.
Nobody in the hospital Could tell the age Of the old woman who Was called Susanna
Because she had no visitors I would stop by to see her But she was always sleeping
One day I was beside her When she woke up Opening small dark eyes Of a surprising clearness
She looked at me and said You want to know the truth? I answered Yes
She said it’s something that My mother told me
There’s not a single inch Of our whole body That the Lord does not love
She then went back to sleep. ~Anne Porter from “Susanna”
We tend to forget who made us,
including the funny looking feet,
the crooked teeth, the wrinkles, the scars, the split ends —
We see only imperfection
when our Creator sees dust made manifest
in His image.
He loves us even when we do not love ourselves,
hiding our nakedess.
He loves us even when we cover up with gloss
of polish, perms, plucking and plastic surgery,
hiding beneath our cosmetic masks.
He loves every inch
because we are His opus, a masterpiece.
He knew what He was doing.