let me preface this post by acknowledging that this could make me sound like a girly girl drama queen which i would like to think that i'm not but maybe am more than i think. so in true drama queen fashion i will start by saying, "i'm not exaggerating this story"...but seriously, i'm not...
so i go down to the basement to switch the laundry tonight and am confronted by a spider (enter drama queen: biggest spider i've ever seen in my life) standing in the middle of the floor (just staring me down with it's beady eyes). i could have killed it right then. there were plenty of things within my reach to smash it with and it was in the wide open space (standing there so vulnerably). but i froze and then i ran (ran for my life, it could have killed me). so then i did what i'd like to think most wives do and called my husband, seeing as he could quite easily remedy the situation as he was driving down the highway 20 minutes away. so he responded as probably most husbands do and said, "well can't you kill it?" i hung up the phone and being in a little more rational state of mind at this point, i pondered the idea and figured i could man up and do it, armed with the swiffer so i could stay out of arm's reach (of the oh so deadly spider). so the swiffer and i headed downstairs and i foolishly expected the spider to be sitting there in the middle of the laundry room where i left it just waiting for me to come with a weapon. but of course it wasn't. so i retreated again fearing the uncertainty of its location. and then i gathered up the courage to enter the laundry room and begin the search (oh so cautiously, so it didn't come spinning down from a web on the ceiling to make a surprise landing on my head). since i'm being brutally honest, i will admit to multiple retreats out of the laundry room to take deep breaths and rationalize with myself that the spider was not crawling on me...then armed with a new breath of confidence i would re-enter (the battlefield). finally i found it (lurking in the shadows) behind the water heater). it wasn't in the most ideal position for execution with the swiffer but i decided i better give it a shot since i let the last opportunity pass me by. so i did. but as i was poised with the swiffer in hand (looming over the spider's hairy head), i flinched. which gave the spider just enough time to flee the scene and scurry under cover, well out of reach of the swiffer. well now it was agitated so i went fleeing upstairs (barely escaping alive). i'd like to say i've regrouped and won the battle but i haven't. the spider is still down there (looming in shadows, or more likely making a home in my clean basket of clothes that i left when i fled). and i am sitting upstairs (thinking about how the spider could make it's way up the stairs and into my peacefully sleeping child's crib for a midnight attack).
believe it or not there's a point to this story. conflict seems to be the theme of my life right now. i don't think i can name an area of my life that hasn't recently had serious conflict. not bad conflict. conflict that makes me confront and grow and be humble and learn grace. but conflict none the less. and this story exemplifies my approach to it: conflict appears with an obvious solution. i reflexively run from the confrontation. i process and gather courage. i go back ready to confront and take the easy solution. the situation has changed and the easy solution is no longer an option. i retreat again. the consequences grow irrationally in my head. a small conflict snowballs into a much bigger mess. and i'm left with the (looming) spider in the basement.
what i'm learning is the importance of confronting the conflict (the hairy black spider) before it grows (flees under the water heater).
spider analogy aside, i'm also learning the importance of grace. the importance of true humility. the importance of being able to give a genuine apology with no strings attached. to acknowledge, take ownership for and confront my crap regardless of whether the other person does the same. to reject the desire to make people pay for their wrongs. to deny my inclination to keep score. to forgive honestly and freely. to show grace because i realize i am so in need of the same grace.
