Hello, God? Can We Talk...

Yes, it's me again. Frequent caller, sparodic listener.

First I want to thank you for nearly a week and no call from the cancer center about Mr. L's recent blood work. No news is good news in our cancer experience. If you do manipulate (and you can tell I'm still conflicted on that whole possibility) those details, thank you.

Now, to get to the topic of the day, can we talk about spiders? I'm a bit arachnophobic. I'm not the scream high pitched squeals don't like spiders kind of girl. I'm the totally lose my voice, become immobilized and break out in a cold sweat don't like spiders kind of girl. Especially certain spiders in certain spaces.

You and I know the reason; no point in inviting anyone else into that nightmare, but I do wonder why you thought spiders were necessary? I mean, you gave snakes a feature role in Creation that explains their whole lack of popularity. But what were you thinking with the spiders? And why so many kinds, each more creepy than the last? And the hair. And all those legs. What, what, WHAT were you thinking?

Whatever your thoughts lo those many years ago when Creation came into being, could you cut me a little spiderless space right now? Like the other night, fresh out of the hospital, when I hobbled down the hallway, intent upon coaxing my objecting body into some basic bedtime hygiene, and--poof--there on the floor, right next to my foot was a spider. A spider who surely had a starring role in one of the Harry Potter movies. A big spider. A big hairy spider.

And I lost my voice, my painfully limited ability to move and my already dwindling calm attitude. Not cool. Not at all, at all. Pretty much all I had getting me through the moments last week was a strong vein of chutzpah and it flew out the door in the face of one hairy spider.

Then today when Mr. L. retrieved me from my bored housebound reality. Was the spider who suddenly materialized out of nowhere, clickety-clacked his spidery legs across the dashboard and disappeared into the vents just another freak of nature?

Or are you working overtime to answer Mr. L's prayers? He seems to think he could use a little heavenly help in dealing with what he considers to be an argumentive patient. Admittedly the first spider did distract me from my illicit intent to sneak a quick soak in a forbidden bubble bath while Mr. L. was napping. And after today's revelation, I won't be slipping out of the house with my camera for any forbidden driving until I see the lifeless remains of a certain truck dwelling arachnid. And we both know Mr. L. won't be producing that kill for at least another 2 weeks, per doctor's instructions.

Please, Lord, not to question your decisions, but please don't put any spiders in the M & Ms jar or on my comfortable chair in the backyard. Those small selfish comforts are really, well, comforting right now. Please don't take away my chutzpah and my chocolate all in the same week.

In case Mr. L's prayers have zeroed in on the weight of my sewing machine and box of favorite fabric, you can disband any potential army of spiders there. I'll wait until Mr. L. is here to lift it for me. I promise.

Take a spin with Liz at A Mom on Spin for your own conversation with God.