“I don’t like spiders and snakes,” that old song could have been written for me. Most crawling creatures that make their way into my home will be gingerly scooped up and then will find themselves flying through the air as I pitch them from my front door. I have done my part in sparing their life, sticking the landing is up to them. Spiders, however, do not have that same opportunity. I can’t bring myself to actually squish them so they are gathered into a cloud of Kleenex and sent to a watery, swirling, toilet-shaped grave.

Because of that, it came as quite a surprise to me when I developed a healthy dose of respect for a little spider. Several weeks ago I came out of the house to drive to work and there was an intricate spider web stretching from my driver’s side mirror to the side of my car. I was totally grossed out but saw no evidence of the 8 legged foreman responsible for the job so I hopped into my car and took off down the highway. The 55 mile-per- hour trip did what I thought it would do and the hard work of the spider laid in tatters when I reached my office.

The next day, the same thing happened, a web stretched across the exact same area. I drove to work and all that hard work was destroyed. This went on for two solid weeks! One morning I came out and the spider, which at this point I was talking to even though I had never actually seen him, was out on the tiny silk strands of his web. I watched as he raced into the confines of my side mirror for his daily commute.  I had to tell the little guy, “Dude, I am impressed by your perseverance.”

As much as I dislike spiders there was a part of me that started rooting for my persistent friend.  I wanted him to succeed. I wanted that web to make it from my parking lot to my work garage. I didn’t want my new buddy to give up.

And I thought of God and how he must cheer for us, how he must long for us to persevere.

That dream God has planted in you?  If it is from him, don’t give up. That child who has broken your rules and your heart? Keep praying and don’t give up. That habit you want to kick once and for all, rely on the strength of God and don’t give up. Most importantly, that friend or family member who needs Jesus but whose heart seems impenetrable? Keep loving, keep praying, keep storming the gates of heaven on their behalf and don’t give up.

And remember, God won’t ever give up on you!

Galatians 6:9 “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

 Cyndi Word


Wising Up –Wherever Life Happens

Our new four-week Bible study begins THIS Tuesday!  

We will view Beth Moore’s teaching DVD’s each week and then break up into small groups for discussion.There’s no homework!

Week One: A Call to Wise Up

Week Two: Wising Up at Work

Week Three: Wising Up with Money

Week Four: A Wise Friend

All are welcome at any time — Bring your Bible — Bring a friend!



I Choose You

When the earth trembles in despair and thousands are buried in the rubble,    When the pain of prejudice ignites tempers and store fronts and cars in Baltimore; When evil masked men draw their knives and blood spills on the desert sand, When I sit across the table from a woman whose innocence was sold by her very own mother, It is then, Oh God, that I understand the cry of Habakkuk. How long, Oh Lord?

“How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice?  Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?  Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.  Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.  The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.”       Habakkuk 1:1-4

Yes, the question haunts, how long, oh Lord?

So I make a choice.  I choose to believe you are Sovereign and always, always good.  I choose to believe your eye is on the sparrow and on each heart you set in rhythm.  I choose to remember the young woman last Sunday, rising from the baptismal waters with rivulets of grace and mercy running down her beautiful face.  I choose to imagine that saint we had to say good-bye to, fully healed, racing into your arms on Easter morning.  I choose to believe you are coming back, that in an instant, in the twinkling of an eye, we will all be changed. I choose to believe that you will one day reveal the other side of the canvas and that even though all I see currently are frayed knots and tangled strands that the day is coming when I will see the completed picture, each thread stitched perfectly by your loving hand. I choose, my Jesus, to believe that when everything seems to be falling apart it is actually falling perfectly into place.So when the questions clamor, when my heart is yearning for peace, I choose.  I choose trust.  I choose joy.  I choose faith.  I choose belief.

Oh, dear God, I choose You.

Cyndi Word