Last evening I was minding my own business, cruising down Rt 219 on my way to work, when a spider appears on my steering wheel. One second...nothing...the next second there is a small, but noticebly hairy, black spider gazing at me.
"Don't panic" is what I am telling myself as I am looking for a place to pull over; it was all I could do not to slam on the brakes and jump into the back seat.
I do not like spiders. I don't care what the book "Be Nice to Spiders" says. That spider was cute, this one was not. The only spider I have ever liked is Charlotte, the beloved gray spider that befriended the pig Wilber. Unless one of the little (or big) creatures spells a message out for me in their web, it cannot live in my car.
I managed to get the car pulled over and I wanted to jump out of my car and run wildly around it to make sure there were no spiders lurking on my personal being. I didn't though; instead I tried to squash the spider who was dangling from the steering column, dangerously close to my legs.
I missed.
She (it looked like a girl) got away. Under my seat. Oh, now that's just great.
Have I menttioned that I don't care for spiders?
When I was about 8 or 9 years old, me and my sister, Roxie, were going to play in the field next to our house. We crawled under the fence and when I stood up, I felt something prickly against my leg. I was wearing a skirt, so I picked it up and looked. There, on the inside of my skirt, clinging to the fabric, was a spider that had a body the size of a half-dollar. That was not including the legs, which it had tucked neatly underneath itself. Oh, and it was definitely hairy.
I showed Roxie, and our voices lowered to a whisper as we discussed what to do with the spider. I was so afraid that it would start to walk, I mean creep, and it would get on me, more than it already was. Roxie refused to get a stick and coax the spider off, and I couldn't because I had to use both hands to hold my skirt up in the air and away from my body as best as I could. We eventually decided to walk, very slowly so as not to disturb the creature, to the house, where we were sure our mother would take care of the spider.
After long tortuous minutes, we reached the house, and just as we went to open the door, the spider uncurled it long legs which arched up around its fat body. They were hairy too. All thought of caution was abandoned and I began to scream, jumping and waving my skirt up and down wildly. Any thought of being lady-like was also abandoned. The spider fell to the ground with a thud, and disappeared, scurrying into the rocks.
I don't like spiders, but I know they are necessary for balance in nature. The problem is my fear. I need to learn to deal with the fear, so I don't let it control me. What if I decided to never go in my car again? What if I lived in constant fear of the next spider?
All fears are similar really in how they can affect us. I tend to get angry when I am afraid as a way of dealing with it. It doesn't make sense, but it is how I am. Some people run or try to hide, while others try to deny it.
When I am afraid, and not just of spiders, I need to keep focused on God, the Creator of all things, including me.
"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8
"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged; for the Lord your God with be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9.
So, tonight as I head back to work, I will get back in my car, with the spider. I think I'll call her Jane.
Love,
Dianne
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