The Devil Has Eight Legs, Part 2


God’s provision often arrives in the most unexpected of ways.  The turning point in my journey through fear arrived one summer morning a couple of years after the Great Arachnid Debacle in the church amphitheater.  My husband and I were enjoying an early cup of coffee together when outside under the eaves we spied an enormous web.  The web was impressive indeed, but the occupant was downright awe-inspiring.  It was rust colored and grotesquely plump.  We dubbed her ‘Ginormica’ and for several weeks we watched her in repulsed fascination from the safety of our coffee nook.

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The Devil Has Eight Legs, Part 1


I was certain that the spider was mocking me.  It was a minion sent straight from the bowels of hell no doubt.  Sitting in the grass of my church’s outdoor amphitheater that sunny Sunday morning, I was living a nightmare.  You see, I am seriously phobic.  I was born cursed with a hyper-sensitive ‘spidey sense’ and can spot the little demons a mile away.  My senses that morning weren’t just tingling, they were screaming like a symphony of air raid sirens. 

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