Prayer for grandmothers

Lord, Isaiah said Your people weave spider webs. The webs are thin and weak. They catch nothing real. But they still trap the one who made them. Lord, I have woven my share of those webs. Not big lies. The small ones. The story I told about my mother that made me sound patient and her sound hard. The way I told the church split so I sounded wise. The way I talk about my sister and leave out the things I said. These webs are thin. You can almost not see them. But they are still webs. Father, Your Word makes me look at my own weaving this morning. The quiet work I do in my mind. The little ways I shape the story to look better. The ways I excuse my small unkindness. Help me cut the webs today. They are weak when I face them. They only hold when I do not look. Give me one small honesty today. One place where I admit I was not the kind one in that story. That honesty is stronger than any web I have spun. Amen.