The Ugly Truth

Today I spent way too long out on the front porch swing. Lucky for me, the sun just so happened to be setting while I chatted with my good pal Nicole so after our conversation ended, I decided to sit outside a while longer to enjoy the evening. Why? Because that’s what summer is for.

Moving right along…

Anyways, I pressed the shuffle button on my favorite Spotify playlist (yes, Spotify, you must pay me lots of money now because I just gave you a huge shout out. You’re welcome.) The song “Beautiful Things” by Gungor randomly began to play. (Ok fine, thank you Spotify).

I started humming along to this song that I usually skip. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love this song, but that is actually my problem! I loved it way too much that I overplayed it and now I find myself skipping it on occasion (sounds like a problem the radio has if you ask me..) This time, for some reason, I decided to let it play and really listen to the words.

As I was taking in the lovely sunset (thanks Jesus you rock), I noticed an even lovelier spider web hanging off the railing in front of me. Now if you know me in the slightest, you know that I just LOVE and ADORE spiders. (I’m also extremely sarcastic!!!!!)

*C’mon Colleen, get to your point please I have places to be.*

I promise, there is a point.

So, naturally, my reaction was to think first, ew, and second, run for your dear life.

But as I took as moment to complete step one, I noticed the sunset shining through the web and I couldn’t help but make a metaphor out of it. So here it goes.

We are broken people who mess up and sometimes you take one look at us and think “ew.” But, just like the song says, if we have something beautiful radiating through us, our spider web becomes a beautiful portrait worth noting.

The sun will certainly rise tomorrow regardless of whether or not the spider web is in tact. The sun will still be there whether or not the spider web was blown to pieces by the heavy winds and rain. And if that is the case, whatever is left of the spider web will rely on the sun to find its beauty.

And the photographer who took ten minutes, struggling to get the lighting just right, was the same person who thought the spider web was worth the time, effort, sacrifice, and struggle. That photographer was the same person who spent all that time getting the right angle because she thought the spider web was beautiful enough to show the world.

You, like me, may see yourself as a good-for-nothing spider web, but your Creator thinks quite the opposite. That, my friend, is the ugly [beautiful] truth.

My “sunset” that makes me (a “spider web”) beautiful is the One who painted the sky. My “sunset” is constant in my wavering, my doubt, and life’s greatest storms. My “photographer” gives me worth and desires to show the world my value. My “photographer,” instead of running for His life, laid down His life for a ratty, old spider web.

I’m sure there are dozens of “toddlers” in your life who are scared of spider webs and the creatures that inhabit them. I’m sure they’re telling you that you’re past the point of beauty. But, then again, what do three year-olds know?

Don’t ever doubt the sunset and the photographer. Don’t listen to the world’s web of lies.

(Also, pun definitely intended on that last one…)