Last night I was kneeling down to pray and I saw something on a rucked up bit of comforter on my bed… a big ol’ spider hanging upside down, looking as comfy as you please. Spidey was *not* a widow spider (I have loads outside), but was the same size, same shape abdomen, same shape of leg – even had the varigated leg coloring that the brown widow spiders sport these days. (Oh so fashionable).
So I squished the spider with a book and threw it in the toilet. Then I shook out all my bedding and remade my bed.. When it came time to go to bed, I was still a bit squicked out. Spidey had taken the long damp ride to oblivion by then … but every tickle of hair against the sheet, every wandering breeze across my face… *everything* woke me up just that little bit (it took forever to go to sleep in the first place).
Where was the spider? Dead.
Were there any other spiders in evidence? No. (About the size of my fingernail, including legs – not tiny).
Are widow spiders aggressive? No. Poisonous, not aggressive. Much.
Was this a widow spider? No, it’s actually some sort of house spider. I’ve seen them before.
But none of that mattered – and I got a lousy night’s sleep.
Why? Because I let myself get freaked out. I let illogical fear control my reactions – and I worried about something I had a) taken action on and b) had no further control over.
That’s one of the things I’m growing through at the moment – letting go of worrying *so much* about stepping wrong. At this point in my walk, I’m right and tight with God, no habitual sin in my life, and my motivations are correct. So the inside of the cup is as good as it’s going to get at this point in my maturity (not saying I don’t have improvements to make, I’m saying that they’ll come in time, I don’t have any red-lights flashing).
And yet I worry … did I say the right thing to those Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to my door? Did I say the right thing in the conversation with my neighbor? Did I smile at the right moment? Is my outfit modest yet not frightening? Is my hair covered enough? Does this look too much like a bandanna? I could go on… but you get it. And the idea is – I need to STOP. S.T.O.P. Just say what comes to say, and say a prayer while I’m at it if I remember. Pray for the folks on my refrigerator and don’t stress about having the right words. Do what comes to my hands to do and don’t worry so much about if it’s my entire purpose to do whatever in that moment – just do it.
And maybe go take a small nap while I’m at it. -yawns-