As my kids packed their backpacks for school, I snatched a glance out my dining room window. The sunlight was just peeking over the treetops across the street, perfectly spotlighting a three-foot-wide spider web that was reaching from a tree branch to its neighboring bush.
Normally, spiders make me cringe.
But on this morning, as the light shone on that web, I saw more. The sunbeams illuminated this spider’s attempt at grocery shopping, showcasing delicate detail and intricate symmetry that had been spun in the shadows. I could see the undeniable beauty in this spider’s simple ‘must’ for that day.
It is no secret among those who know me best that I tend to procrastinate with my musts—the dishes, laundry, grocery shopping. I try to pep-talk myself into doing these things for God and for my family, embracing Colossians 3:23: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord.” But the truth is, when I’m just convincing myself to find the beauty in what I’m doing, I’m missing something.
As I stared out my window that day, God showed me that I wasn’t actually drawn to the web. Rather, I was drawn to the sun’s rays reflecting off the strands.
The spiderweb was beautiful because of the presence of the light.
I can apply this same understanding to my own mundane tasks—I can just spin through my list, or I can step back and see the beauty of His presence in them. I can do these things for the Lord or, even better, I can do these things with Him. The first way gets things done, yes, but the other illuminates, radiates, and transforms.
And that is beautiful.
“Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, LORD” (Psalm 89:15, NIV).