Teacher Bees

Bees are some of my favorite creatures. They bumble around my Russian sage this time of year with lavender colored dust floating all around them, clinging to their bodies and making them look like they were dipped in frosting sugar. It is beautiful. The other day as my kids were splashing in the pool my attention was drawn over to the still uncut oregano. I was internally chastising myself for not getting to that summer task yet and reminding myself how much better baked-ziti-in-January will taste if I get the herbs drying now. So, logically, I walked over, sat down, and watched the bees.

They were uncaring of my presence in their garden and so they continued on in their required task without even a glance in my direction. As they went about their work I was able to notice how lovely their wings are, how fuzzy they are, how quickly they buzz between flowers. A person can think deep thoughts in her garden if she is able to block out the joyous noise that is her children. I found myself wondering how little the bees care for the beauty of the flowers. Yes, there are several different types of bees gathering pollen in my front garden at any given moment in early August, but is it because of its beauty? There were equally as many bees clambering around my oregano, whose flowers are not showy in any way. If beauty is not important to the bees, do I place too much emphasis on it in my own life?

I wonder what draws the bees to a particular spot, to a particular type of blossom. I know the basics of bee-related science. That they work to ensure survival of the queen who will replace each bee as they die from the exhaustion of working for her, which ensures the survival of the colony. At least for one more season. There is no care for singular well-being, rather only for the health of the hive. We also have carpenter bees in our yard, a solitary species. Their drive is not the good of the hive. No, their motivation is simply in the hope they will mate and allow the continuation of their own species. In my deep thinking I decided that if my life was simply selfless work, work that I would likely not see come to fruition, that I would seek out the beautiful as much as possible too.

It continually amazes me how all of my life lessons seem to be either learned or reinforced in my garden. One of the first verses that comes to mind when I think of bees is Proverbs 16:24; Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. I’ve helped my kids memorize this verse and I use it as an internal reminder that when I speak kind words to them I am speaking healing instead of hurt. I often think of plants as God’s words to me. He speaks to me in the color of cosmos, in the scent of lilies, sends notes of His love in small fields of daisies, reminders of His faithful care for me in early spring lilacs. He is gracious to me. And if Gracious words are a honeycomb, I easily receive His grace in my garden. I am sure that the lessons have been behavior corrections that have come in the gentlest way possible. If the flowers are the words of God, then I can believe the bees to be His messengers. They grab my attention, cause me to be still and sit in His presence, they remind me to slow down and focus on Him. Bees have one aim; continuation of the species, shouldn’t I have a similar drive? Or rather;

Shouldn’t I have a singular focus I mean. There should be one thing that causes me to do all things, or that I do all things in the name of. As the drones of bees work solely for their queen shouldn’t my motivation be my King? I believe that it should be. As I go about my daily tasks I am reminded that even though laundry, dishes, and sweeping are menial tasks they are made good in that I do them for Christ. That I do them to model a servant heart for my children and to actually be a servant to my God is what matters. You’ve probably heard that you should “Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people.”(Eph. 6:7), that verse never really made sense to me until I understood the bees. I could’t see how scrubbing toilets, making dinner, grocery shopping could be done for the Lord when these tasks were so clearly just drudgery.

The bees never see it as such of course, they fly from flower to flower spreading pollen, providing for their community, and ultimately ensuring the continuation of not only themselves, but of endless variety of plants, and the creatures who rely on those plants. Do I have that kind of power? If I tend my children with this type of care they can flourish and grow into the people they are meant to be. If I serve my family well and provide for their needs I am allowing them to have a safe place to explore the world and find their place in it. They needn’t worry about where their next meal will come from because they trust me. If I live my life in service to God my people will learn by example that a life of service is fulfilling. Like the bees, I may not see how the way I live will affect my children. The affect of one person is seldom felt in their lifetime, but if I am going to have an impact I want it to be for the kingdom and for good.

As the bees continue to buzz from flower to flower I watch. I sit in the chaos that is my day-to-day and wonder at the chaos that is a working bee hive. Each bee knows its place in service to the queen. As I am still learning my place and position in service to the King of kings, the bees are a good model for me. This is why I will always sit still in my garden on hot July afternoons listening to the buzz of bees and the splashing of children, being reminded that both care nothing for the higher order of the world, they simply trust that there is order. This is why the oregano is still uncut several days later and I count jars of dried herbs on my shelf trying to decide if I can just let the bees have the flowers this year. This is why when I am feeling spent or overwhelmed or too exhausted to do more, I am able to remember (sometimes) that God asks me to do only this task, this work of motherhood. That in His strength I will be able to carry on and that in His wisdom I can discern what must be done next and what can wait.

It is a constant learning and relearning of why I was put here in this place. It would be easier if I could retain these lessons on the first try. I’m very glad though, that if I have to be told multiple times, I have the bees as my teachers, the plants as my textbook and the garden as my school house.

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