Spider Webs, Mountain Tops, & Valleys

Have you ever been casually walking through your front door or sliding into your car when, all of a sudden, something is stuck to your face?

Something that causes you to immediately start swiping at yourself as though your next move, if done incorrectly, could lead to your demise?

And then, moments later, after you've calmed down enough to breathe, you realize...

Spider web.

Has that ever happened to you?

If not, great. Consider yourself one of God's very special people.

The number of times this has happened to me is embarrassing. My rapid, chaotic response is usually even more disturbing than the remnants of the spider web itself.

And honestly?

That is what the month of August felt like for me.

There were beautiful memories.

My parents finally made the three-day journey to Virginia, and my heart desperately needed that time with them. There were precious moments that never made it onto a camera roll because they were the kind of moments you simply want to keep tucked away in your heart.

From the outside looking in, you probably would have thought I was living the dream.

And then...

Spider web.

The beautiful visit with my parents was quickly followed by a work week that easily clocked in at 90+ hours of tears, hard conversations, and harsh realities.

I celebrated the hard work of two women I love dearly, surrounded by their families, friends, laughter, and some wonderfully funny memories.

And then came the devastation of relapse, suddenly front and center for women who were still working their program.

Mountain top.

Spider web.

Valley.

Repeat.

But there is one thing I've learned from working with women in recovery:

God is present for all of it.

We can sometimes fall into the trap of thinking, If things aren't good, then God must be...

And then we fill in the blank with declarations that simply aren't true.

On the great days—the mountain tops, the celebrations, the Instagram-worthy moments—God's goodness can feel easy to recognize.

But when we're walking through heartbreak, grief, disappointment, and the loss of the life we thought we would have, we start wondering where He is.

Where are You, God?

Do You see this?

Are You still here?

Yes.

He has always been there.

And He always will be.

I believe God draws us closer to Him during seasons of devastating loss, heartbreak, and grief because sometimes those valleys reveal parts of His character that we could have never understood from the mountain top.

He shows up in the text from a dear friend who speaks the truth and gives you the affirmation you desperately needed.

He shows up in an invitation to dinner on a day that feels especially difficult, reminding you that you don't have to navigate it alone.

He shows up in a new song that somehow puts words to emotions you couldn't explain.

He shows up in closed doors that protect us from dangers we couldn't see for ourselves.

He shows up in the quiet.

He shows up in the waiting.

He shows up when our prayers feel short and distracted.

He shows up even when we're frustrated that He's the last person we want to hear from.

God is kind.

God is loving.

God is gentle.

God is everlasting.

Even when we can't see the bright side of the situation.

He protects.

He rebukes.

He covers.

And sometimes what feels like punishment is actually His kindness leading us into radical obedience.

That's something I'm learning to trust.

The spider web moments remind me that celebrations and moments of joy are gifts to be cherished, not carelessly mishandled.

The mountain tops remind me that God has goodness in store for me, even when I don't know how long the wait will be.

And the valleys?

The valleys have a way of showing us His love in places we may have never experienced it before.

They call us deeper.

They stretch our understanding of His sovereignty.

They teach us that His presence isn't dependent upon our circumstances.

So after my chaotic spiraling through what felt like a month's worth of spider web moments, I can look back on August and see His hand more clearly.

Not because everything turned out perfectly.

But because He was faithful through all of it.

Maybe you're in a mountain top right now.

Maybe you're staring at a valley that feels impossible to climb out of.

Or maybe you're somewhere in between, casually walking through life when suddenly...

Spider web.

Whatever season you're in, remember this:

He is there.

For every celebration.

For every disappointment.

For every unexpected phone call.

For every tear.

For every valley.

For every moment when you don't know what to do next.

He is right there.

And sometimes His greatest gift isn't immediately changing the circumstances around us.

Sometimes it's simply giving us enough grace to breathe in the middle of them.

So breathe.

Look for Him.

And remember that whether you're standing on the mountain, walking through the valley, or frantically swiping spider webs off your face...

You are never walking alone!