Leaving a Mark

Here's another not-uncommon experience in my neck of the woods: finding a large spider web with absolutely no hint of the spider still actually being there. 

Not that long ago, I went in the bathroom one night to brush my teeth. When I opened the medicine cabinet to grab my toothbrush, there was a new, thick spider web across the inside corner of the cabinet. I noticed it right away, mostly because I feared that it meant that somewhere on my toothbrush was...a spider.

Better safe than sorry, I tore apart that cabinet. I took everything out of it, wiped everything down, thoroughly cleaned every item, every shelf, every hinge. I even wiped down the top of the cabinet, climbing on a step stool to make sure I was getting every little bit of it. 

No spider. 

And yet, even after thoroughly cleaning everything and knowing without a doubt there was no spider living in that vicinity in the bathroom, I continued looking for one for several weeks. Every time I went in the bathroom, I would scan the walls and the corners and the nooks and the crannies because even though I hadn't seen it, I knew it had been there. The web was proof enough. 

The question that comes to my mind, then, is: what kind of mark am I leaving on the world? 

Am I living in such a way that anyone would know that I was here? Am I shaping the things around me in ways that mark my presence? More importantly, are the marks that I am leaving the kinds of things that are going to get others caught up in them? Caught up in God's things the way that I am? 

That's what webs do. They catch things. Am I catching anything with my life? With my witness? 

And if I am, am I catching these things up to something better? 

I want the world to be a better place because I was in it. I want the places I leave to be better because I have been there. I want to leave a mark in the world that catches other things up into something better. I want God's glory to be more powerful, more prominent, more present in the world because I have been living it. 

Spider webs are neat things (when you aren't walking into them unexpected, face-first). If you really take the time to study them, they are so neat, the way every thread is woven into the others. The way the patterns are subtly different based on the winds that catch the spider while it moves, the posts to which it attaches its creation, the thickness or thinness of its silks, and all kinds of other factors. 

And that's the kind of thing we do with our lives - we weave it all together, each of us, in this beautifully unique way that depends on our personal experiences, resources, design. The winds in our lives. The posts to which we attach ourselves. The thickness or thinness of our silk. All kinds of other factors. We're all just weaving our own little fragile thing. 

The question is...is it making a mark? Is it creating the evidence that we were here? That we've done something here, in this space, with this little fragile life that we live? 

Man, I hope so.