The Spider Became my Only Refuge

As a young teenager, it was decided that I was ‘rebellious’ and needed help. At that time the options for folks that had money or good insurance was to ‘hospitalize’ the child. By that I am meaning a mental institution. Private, of course, but still the same.

I was labeled rebellious but if any of the well-groomed psychologists had more than a desire to make money they would have clearly seen that I was lonely, abused and feeling quite unloved.

Prior to my being ‘locked up’, I had told my mother about my brother molesting me. My sister had just opened the door to tell her that our father had molested her and I thought this was a good time as any to share my experiences. My mother gave my sister solace and turned to me with a glare and called me a liar! I would have been completely devastated except that this was not the first time my sister got the accolades while I got burned. It was par for course and I was merely hoping.

I was locked up for 2.5 months. It wasn’t ‘bad’ only for the reason that it was better than living at home with my horrid mother and siblings. At one point, the shrink wanted me to write an autobiography or something and I didn’t seem to possess the knowledge to get this done in a timely manner. I was really locked up for 2-3 weeks. I was put in a room with a small window that was too high to see out of, a small bed and a bathroom. I was allowed out to get my meals and bring it back to my room. I was to see no one.

In that great solitary confinement I noticed a spider. I guess he was locked in also. So as to not go crazy from lack of any outside communication I began to talk to the spider. He might have actually been listening… or was that all the medication they had me doped on? He became my only ally. Upon waking I would look for him first thing. I believe I even named him although I cannot remember what it was.

I realize today, maybe the first time realizing this or a memory fault, that not once did I cry out to ‘God’. I was raised in the Catholic Church for about 5-6 years as a child. It was where we went on Sunday mornings and what my relatives did. It was the right and religious things to do. God? He was that man stuck there up on the cross at the front. Authority was the guy up front wearing the robes and hat speaking a funny language. That was the way of life.

So, why would I have called out to God in my time of need? In all that religion I had no idea that he really existed beyond the statue that hung up high from the cathedral ceiling. Then, if I turned my head I could see him sitting pretty in his mothers lap as a child. Who was God?

I believe that during those rough years at home, having every amenity life could afford but no human love, was when I made the choice that I was an Atheist. I knew no better. (I also decided I wanted to become an alcoholic for a career, if that is to give any indication of how confused I was about all of life!)

Five years later, God graciously shone his light on my life and became a reality to me. Now almost 30 years later he is finally becoming the true relationship I have yearned for and looked to man to grow for me, to no avail.

God truly is a good God… all the time… even if we don’t see him. We cannot see the wind but still it refreshes us on a hot day.