What a Pollen-Drunk Bee Taught Me About Being Chill

A flash of color through the bedroom window caught my eye. What was that? The sun was still struggling to rise, the darkness slowly rolling back. I couldn’t be sure what I’d seen in the soft, early morning light. So I backtracked, paused at the glass, and searched for the hot-pink hue that had stopped me in my tracks.

Ahhhh, the wildflowers are blooming!

Several days had passed since I’d walked around the back side of our home. Nestled against the woods, there is no real reason to walk around that side of the house. Everything we need — the garage, front door, back patio, deck — is accessible from the other side. Until the flash of pink caught my eye through the bedroom window and drew me outside.

As I came around the corner, I could hardly believe the symphony of color that awaited me. Bursts of deep purple, lavender, yellow, white, and hot pink danced before my eyes, the various Colorado wildflowers swaying in the early summer breeze.

These wildflowers bloom every summer at different times and to varying degrees, depending on the spring’s rainfall and the sun’s heat. This year we’d had an unusually high number of thunderstorms followed by brilliant sunshine. The result was one of the best wildflower displays I’d seen since we lived here.

The only problem? I’d been distracted by life and almost missed it.

So that day, I slowed my pace and walked the perimeter, taking in the view. I stopped to consider the different varietals, noting their brilliant colors and unique greenery. Some boasted unopened blooms, promising a better display in the coming days. I had to make sure I didn’t miss it.

Then, toward the end of my self-guided wildflower tour, I noticed a splash of black-and-yellow in the center of one of the purple blooms. Thinking it odd, I leaned closer to investigate.

To my surprise, what I discovered wasn’t the pistil of the flower, but the butt of a honey bee. Yes, the black-and-yellow striped backside of a bee that had parked himself in the purple cone-shaped bloom like I park my SUV in the garage. Nose in, butt out, engine off. Totally chill.

I laughed out loud. The bee wasn’t moving. Not a bit. Whether drunk on pollen or simply not a morning person, I couldn’t say. Regardless, he looked quite cozy and unmotivated to leave his purple bed. I marveled at my luck, until I looked to the left and found another bee butt similarly positioned in another purple bloom. Pollen-drunk bees were everywhere.

This was no longer an anomaly, but a pattern. Nature was doing nature. And it was extraordinary. Who knew?!

Based on his lack of movement or response, I don’t think Mr. Bee was the least bit interested in my epiphany. But my heart danced because in that moment, I felt a hint of the wonder of this marvelous, magical world. And I realized anew that the same God who made the too-cool-for-school bee also made the middle-aged woman who admired him.

We have the same Creator, little buddy. The same God who made you, made me. How amazing is that?!

The bee didn’t answer. But my spirit settled. Thank you, Father.

In the weeks and months before, I’d watched with utter helplessness as someone I care for sank deeper and further away from me. Wrestling with personal demons, some of which I couldn’t identify or understand, I prayed over and over again for clarity, wisdom, and divine rescue. Lord, save!

There are a few things as painful as watching someone you love self-destruct, and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it. How does a heart bear it?

Jesus said, “Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?”
Luke 12:27-28 (NLT)

As I stood in front of a beautiful wildflower display for which I could take no credit and a comatose bee who remained completely oblivious to my presence, the Holy Spirit reminded me once again that our Father is in the details. He sees the bee napping in a bloom, and He sees the woman who stays awake through the night praying for those she loves. Although much is out of my control and I can’t predict ultimate outcomes, I know that the same Creator who grew the wildflowers and guided the bee can be trusted with the various people and problems that color my often complicated and sometimes heartbreaking life.

Some nights will still pass without sleep. Some days will still be marked by tears. But I can trust the one who cares for me, even more than the flowers and bees He made.

He is where my faith resides. Nose in, butt out, engine off. Totally chill.

And there I will rest.