I had forgotten how spiders weave their artistic webs anywhere they can attach it from one point to another. We don’t have many spiders where I live in Arizona. My guess is they would “fry” from the intense heat, so I like seeing them again. At the corner of the cabin I’ve watched a spider web grow. It’s so fragile one would think a light breeze could destroy it, but it hangs on through strong winds. I love looking at its amazing design and wouldn’t think of knocking it down.
Isaiah talks about the sin of people who refuse to obey God. They weave their lives full of holes like a spider web, and he reminds us that webs are no good for shirts or shawls—we can’t wear something as delicate as a web cloth.
Our lives are delicate, too. Tell a lie, and you’ll end up spinning a few more to try to cover for the first one. Take something that doesn’t belong to you, and if you are caught, you’ll wish you’d never held the item in your hands. Speak poorly of a friend or acquaintance, and it is possible the words will get back to you and you’ll have to eat them.
It takes only one bad choice to destroy the intricate design God has for us.
Lord, help us weave a strong pattern in our life that can stand up to sinful ways. Amen.