By Ally Beacon
Sometimes we’re forced to make a home
Right in the middle of the spider’s web
Each day and night trying to forgive
Something that’s currently eating you alive
Can feel like
You’re letting it
And it’s not about
A refusal to give up
Your pride
But giving up
Altogether
Giving in
To their anger
To your own
To hopelessness
To worthlessness
The spiders do not hear your pleas
You cannot change their nature
The closest you can come to that
Is deceiving yourself
Sometimes we feel a sense of comfort
Rather than dread
When the spiders of our lives
Wrap us up
Each thread
Methodically wrapped around us
Holding us in place
It won’t be like this forever
And you are not alone
If we feel used
If we feel like a placeholder
How must he have felt?
After all
His cross was made up
Of all of our webs
His hands and feet torn by nails
And by threads
He felt the multitude of eyes upon him
Savouring the taste of his defeat
All the pain that has settled inside us
All the hurt that stretches before us
Already felt
All at once
In one body, mind, soul
And yet
He didn’t see them as spiders
He saw them as family
Brothers and sisters
And he sees
How The Father sees
We are His
The point of grace
Is that it is not earned
Just as He gave and gives
No matter what we are to each other
We are to give
It is an unfair kindness
That we must pay forward
