The Bee Keepers Son

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So it’s the New Year…welcome the diaspora of wandering Jews of the heart.

My life in God has always been an adventure and there has been this growing acknowledgment of Him that is revealed in His tender sense of humor with me.

It gives me hope that the One I pursue (who started this chase) is the One I will encounter at the end of my journey, that when I shuffle off this mortal coil I will be face to face with my best friend.

So recently I was at a lake enjoying a journey, that was both beautiful and intimidating for my heart…a picnic, a view into another heart that simply stunned me in the beauty and wildness and the dancing hand of God manifesting in ways that made me cry.

I sat mesmerized by the story, truly in wonder of my God and how He keeps us pure when we think it lost, keeps us safe when we feel most vulnerable, keeps us close when we feel most alone…how we measure things is often like taking temperature with a tape measure, it is simply not accurate, but often all we know.

If you ever see yourself the way He see’s you, you will see unbroken purity, unending strength, you will see Jesus the mirror of God in yourself and it will stun you.

And then it happened…the bee thing…as I was sitting on a blanket in the sun eating a sandwich a bee came around and landed on my bare foot…explored it then flew up to my jeans and back to the toes…”Be still”…the laughing joke of God that he keeps between us…

When I got my passport it was an incredibly tumultuous day, I forgot essential documents, brought the wrong payment method, all day long sweating and in a panic and freaking out inside and all along Gods laughing voice in my heart “Be still”…(it was literally the only time in my life I have physically shaken in apprehension).

“Are you nuts? ” I exclaim to the most powerful being in existence…”You are freaking crazy… God!” as I hear a gentle laugh…”Bee still”…”Hey Mr. Universe you spelled it wrong it only has one “e”…and I can see the twinkle in His eye as he replies with no words “Think so?”

At the end of the passport fiasco when I walked out of the Federal Building with a passport in hand, I went to eat with my son and his wife and true to form a bee followed me OUT of the restaurant and the consecutive two blocks to the car…”bee still”…

Bee’s have found me in Cuba, up in the mountains, out near the ocean, in bathrooms in federal buildings, in parks, in cars, in caves under stars…bee’s…bee’s on toes and knees…

Always when my heart wants to bolt like a hare from the wolf pack…”be still”…when my desire for life would make me tear down the edifice of my dreams and add a second floor or more bathrooms or…”be still”…

And it begins to dawn on me that we probably each have a special nickname from God, some specific way He likes to call us…mine obviously goes back to my childhood and bee’s…

The big bumble bee types that flew into the lilac bush…and I would wait with a ping pong paddle and a squirt gun of water and an empty gallon pickle jar with holes in the lid…

Plunge the gun into the flower after the bee goes in, soak him until he comes out to the edge  to dry off, whack him with the paddle to the ground where you scoop him up and deposit him into the jar with his justifiably angry and displaced family…

“Like bees in a bottle we are flying at fate 
Beating our wings against the walls of this place 
Unaware that the struggle is the blood of the proof 
In choosing to believe the unbelievable truth” Orphans of God-Mark Heard

One of my favorite games as a loner boy in rural Oklahoma…and then the decision to drop a smoking book of matches into the jar to make them sleep so I could take them back to the bushes and open the lid as they slept the sleep of bee’s and I could wander off unharmed…a bee-keeper boy exploring life, right on the edge of danger for an 8-9 year old…

I can still recall the adrenalin as I waited until the bee entered the petals and then quickly I made my move risking the sting…all for…? Who knows I was eight…not much thought bouncing around in an eight year old head.

But this week-end it occurred to me that I was not simply a child-hood bee keeper…I was much more…I was the real bee keepers son…the One who keeps the bee’s that have been showing up on my prayer walks and those tender vulnerable moments when my heart needs a sign…He sends a bee…”Remember who’s you are”…

Bee still” with a laugh and a twinkle…

“It will bee fine”…now He’s pushing the metaphor…

“To bee or not to bee“…okay I get it God…and really? you’re going to twist Shakespeare?

But I like the distinction…I know Him as my keeper, and now even more as His son, the Keeper of the bees…

I am glad to bee the Bee-Keepers Son…

It keeps me a humble-bee…but more than that…

I know I am loved…that my Daddy who owns all the bee’s on the seven seas will send the smallest of insects and like Gandalf in Saruman’s tower with a moth I know His love is my escape I know I am safe…

I can risk and bee still…

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