There’s a black spider on my nose.
Its tentacles stretch across the bridge with a tenacity that tells me it’s not going anywhere soon.
For one thing, I think it enjoys being the center of attention, not to mention the topic of conversation.
Why, just the other day in church I caught a 3-year-old staring intently from the pew just ahead, his back to the preacher. My nose must have been more interesting.
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While the little boy pondered this fascinating sight, I imagine he was wishing he’d have brought his bug collector kit with him. But who would have thought such a fine specimen would show up right after Sunday school?
I’ve caught adults looking intently, too. Some pretend there’s nothing odd about having a spider on one’s nose, and I’ve enjoyed the best eye contact ever. Other folks bravely venture into a conversation that brings far more details than they care to hear.
Recently, when husband Bill and I went out for a quick meal, I told the young man behind the counter that if he could listen to my fast-food order without gawking at the spider hugging my nose, then I would tip him. My guess is that he didn’t want extra money very badly.
I have my doctor to blame for all the stares. Or maybe I have him to thank.
He suspects a flare-up of cancer again. Thankfully, his sharp eyes spotted the possible offender underneath all my make-up. He says if we catch it now with a biopsy, there’s less worry later.
So here I am with dark threads stitched across my nose. And until we know the final results, I’m not going to let this bump in life “bug” me. God’s Word says to not be anxious about anything.
Even so, when I look in the mirror, it’s hard not to stare.