Sisters in Shame

This morning over breakfast the hubs told me about a book coming out that may or may not affect the outcome of our current presidential election.  It's called Crisis of Character and is a first hand account of experience with the past  Clinton administration.  It contains previously unknown information about the scandal that rocked the nation.

No political commentary here.  If you want to know more get the book and form your own opinions.

Let's talk about Monica Lewinsky.  What do you think of when you hear her name?  I know.  It's ugly, disgusting, or even funny if you are warped.  Mostly it's sad.  Because a foolish young woman made a very common mistake young women sometimes make and she's living the rest of her life as the poster child for in-discrimination.  People still publicly snicker at her.

She's not the first woman in history to endure such.  King David had a wife like that.  Despite his making Bathsheba an honest woman by marrying her and their son even sitting her on a throne beside him, history STILL sees her as the woman on her back shaming a kingdom.  Ask most any preacher about her. The first thing he tells is not that she was an excellent wife, raised the wisest man in history or was the role model that Proverbs 31 was written about. No, he'll tell you that she helped bring a kingdom to its knees.  Never mind that God/Scripture/Nathan and David himself cleared her name.  She's still getting the Lewinsky treatment.

Never met Monica.  Know one person that saw her at a restaurant once.  But I like her. Why?  She's using her pain and her shame to help others.  Don't believe me?  Check out her Ted Talk.  This is not a person in hiding.  This is a person out there trying to do some good with what's left of her life.  This is something to be admired, and should she choose to trust Jesus (and I truly hope and pray so!) some day, like Bathsheba, I'll be able to tell her how much I respect and admire the person she became.

"Oh Poop!"

This is as close to swearing as it gets around my house and I'm not going to tell you who says it, just that its not me. Usually.

Truth is, I've been thinking a lot about the mess lately.  It started with Sherah, the ah-maz-ing woman in I Chron 7:24 who built (drum roll please) 3 cities!  A close examination of what all was involved for a bi-racial woman from a family with a bad reputation to build 3 cities in the Bronze Age led me to believe that she probably started by herself with a shovel  - digging sewage trenches.

Poop.  She had to plan for removing the poop if her city was going to offer a decent standard of living. 

Then there's the oxen in Prov. 14:4.  No oxen?  Everything is nice and clean and no work is getting done.  Oxen present?  Work is getting done and there's poop to deal with.  I think everyone who's ever held a job can vouch that there's junk, in some form to deal with even with the best of jobs.

I wouldn't venture to say that it's a biblical principal that work and accomplishment produces poop, but I think it's safe to say that it's an observable life principal.  Even dream jobs have their fair amount of paperwork and/or management issues and/or, well, you get the idea.

The thing about it though, the junk, the poop, the trials, the tribulations, the waste, doesn't have to be wasted.  Remember Sherah's cities?  Those trenches down the hillsides of Upper and Lower Beth Horon ran into plains.  And all that nastiness returned to nature and made the soil healthy and fertile so that it eventually grew  crops that fed many people.

I don't like poop/refuse/dung.  It's nasty and it stinks, and on a farm with assorted animals I'm always checking my shoes to make sure it don't get tracked inside. But it's a fact of life, and would be even if I didn't live on a farm. Crazy thing is, with time and good decomposition it can be valuable and useful, and people even buy it -  in 45 lb bags at Lowes no less!  I like to think that God, with time and His direction, will make the heartaches, trials and tribulation by products of my own life useful, valuable and even life giving.  And I hope its presence means that good work is being accomplished as well. 

First Lessons

Since I'm chugged up with a nasty summer cold and have chosen not to share it with the whole church I'm home alone this morning.

And since Sunday morning belongs to God regardless I found a reference to my very first Prison Ministry lesson in a favorite book I was thumbing through. It took me back - quite a few years in fact.

The lesson was on Michal, the daughter of Saul and the first wife of David. The story of her life begins as a young princess in love and ends as an embittered woman left to her own misery. The passages that intrigued me to study her are found in II Samuel 6:

vs. 16 And as the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal Saul's daughter looked through a window, and saw king David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.

vs. 20 Then David returned to bless his household. And Michal the daughter of Saul came out to meet David, and said, How glorious was the king of Israel to day, who uncovered himself to day in the eyes of the handmaids of his servants, as one of the vain fellows shamelessly uncovereth himself!

The starry eyed bride who helped her husband escape death was now attacking him with everything she had. What happened?

The bottom line of the lesson is in Who/what each chose to worship. David had lost himself in worship to God. Michal worshiped, well, other things. It's that simple.

In the twelve or thirteen years that have passed since first delving into Michal's life, I've read many books and heard many lessons and sermons that continue to shed light on this thing about worship. Perhaps the best is from my pastor:

“Worship is focusing my minds attention and my heart's affection on who God is and everything He has done for me.” David Lewis

Everyone worships something. Some recognize it, some don't. Some admit it, some don't. Most go through life blindly chasing what they think will bring happiness. The list of idols is long: new (house, car, job etc), romance, finances, authority, recognition, etc. There's no denying these things bring pleasure, but good things are ultimately unsatisfying when they are THE ultimate thing. In Michal's case it was self image. She was trapped in that preteen girlish nightmare of what people thought.

I love Mark Batterson's take on this incident:

“I think David gives us a picture of pure worship. Worship is disrobing. It is taking of those things outside our relationship with Christ that we find our identity and security in. It is a reminder that our royal robes are like 'filthy rags.' It's not about what we can do for God. It's about what God has done for us. And that understanding produces the greatest freedom in the world: having nothing to prove.”

I hope you will worship with me today.  Clothed of course.

Martha and Mary Revisited

I love Martha.  She has a servant's heart, she holds herself together, she's practical and not afraid to work.  And she's been preached "against" for as long as I remember.  There's no getting around that Jesus gently turned her attention to more important matters in Luke 10, but the whole picture seems greatly out of focus when John 11 is taken into consideration.

So here we are -  two sisters and a dead brother.  Both heartbroken.  Both mourning.  Both wishing the friend they love had been there four days earlier.  And Martha finds out he's on his way.

"Rabbi, if you had been here my brother would not have died."

And here's where her true faith comes through:  " But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee."

And with these words Martha was the first one to receive some of the most powerful words recorded in the Bible, "I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE . . . "

Consider Mary now.  She's back at the house being consoled by a  bunch of people who get up and follow her to Jesus.  I don't know about you, but that tells me that Martha's being able to slip away unnoticed meant that she was holding it together.  The crowd gathered around Mary was trying to help the emotionally fragile sister from falling apart.  Or they were enjoying the show.

Think I'm being hard on Mary?  Look closer.  After falling at Jesus feet Mary said the exact same words to Jesus. "Rabbi, if you had been here my brother would not have died."

The Savior's response is dramatically different.  Instead of powerful words of comfort  he "groaned in the spirit, and was troubled."

Why would that be?  Why would Jesus offer powerful words of comfort to Martha and be troubled with Mary?

Because He knew where each was at in their spiritual progress.  Martha showed a mature faith.  Mary didn't show any faith at all.

OK, I'm going to jump off a theological cliff here and propose something radical . . .  Luke 10 happened after John 11.

It makes sense.  Jesus's gentle reprimand of Martha in Luke 10 wasn't that she was doing anything wrong . .  she had simply failed to notice that Mary finally got it!  Emotionally frail Mary's choosing that "good part" was the step of faith she had taken in coming to real  faith in the Savior, the kind that Martha had already demonstrated.  Mary later demonstrated her own faith in washing Jesus's feet.

There are Marthas in this world and there are Marys.  Some have strong faith, others struggle to come to faith at all. While the orthodox challenge to balance service with worship is a valid one, I personally think Luke 10 is more of a challenge to the Marthas of this world to be gentle and understanding of the Marys.

They are after all our sisters.

Echos from Canaan

I just heard Caleb and Achsah again.

Our Cindy called.  Cindy is our oldest child and our affectionate nickname for the shortest person in our family is "Warrior Princess".  She may be small, but she'd take on any giant and indeed has faced some formidable ones in her life and come out victorious.

So it was no big deal when I overheard her familiar "Hey Dad!" when she called and was met with "What do you want?!"  from her father.

Boy, is that familiar!

I've loved Achsah for many a year.  There's actually very little said about this plucky gal in scripture, but suffice to say:

1) she was very much her father's daughter
2) she recognized what was good, needful and necessary
3) she wasn't afraid to go for it

Some scholars regard her as pushy while others regard her as a heroine, one who wasn't afraid to brave the challenges of conquering a new land.  And the highly theological regard her as an example for prayer.

Until today I didn't have any source that explained this remarkable woman the way I understand her from my own study  -  so if you're up for a bit of reading and don't mind wading through the explanations to get to know her better, you're in for a treat on this much appreciated (by me!) page.

And you're in for a bit of insight to a beautiful father/daughter relationship that's been repeated for centuries and in my own family as well.

What's in a Name??

Her life was a wreck. She was sick. She was broke. In fact, she was broke because she was sick, and she was still sick thanks to a medical community who didn't have a clue about what was wrong with her, let alone how to help her. And she was desperate.

What do you do when you're desperate? You do desperate things. For her this meant throwing on enough powder or face paint or hair gel or whatever to fain wellness and mingling with a mob hoping she wouldn't be noticed.

Her purpose gave her strength enough to make her way through the crowd. She knew that if she failed she had nothing left but to go home and die. She was so sick she might not even make it home to die. This was it.

At last she found what she was looking for. She stooped down, reached out, then stood up . . . whole, and well.

There wasn't even enough time to feel a flicker of joy when her heart trembled at hearing an authoritative "Who?" She knew it was her. This wasn't supposed to happen, she had thought to do her deed and get out of of there.

A moment of confusion ensued as the mob stopped and tried to figure out what happened. Then the voice spoke again, "Somebody touched me". This time it was personal - she was being called out.

There was nothing to do but to come clean then and there. This dear nameless woman, fell trembling before the One who had made her, and then made her whole. All she could do was pour out her story before Him and hundreds of onlookers.

Jesus's next words not only gave her permission to rejoice in the new life she was given by touching the hem of His garment, but even more so in a new relationship with Him. Her faith in Jesus Christ, not some ethereal idea of something greater out there, but a real faith in the very real Jesus Christ, a faith that called her to action, had made her whole. The "Who" that was singled out as a "Somebody" was now a "Daughter", instructed to go in peace.


Taken from Luke 8:43-47

From Beemusement 101

My Sister Bathsheba

I’ve come to realize this week that one of the reasons I like Bathsheba so much is that we have so very much in common.

Both of us were wronged by a very well liked and popular person.

Both of us had our hearts ripped out and stuffed down our throat.

Both of us were blamed in the other person’s sin.

Both of us endured whispers of ignorant waggling tongues.

And both of us chose to remain silent about the incident and let God handle it.

I love the fact that both God and Solomon vindicated this incredible woman. Even David, who sinned against her, publicly took responsibility for his actions, something that never happened in my case. Her son . . HER son, was chosen by God above his elder brothers to sit on the throne of David. Solomon publicly honored her to a place no woman had ever achieved in Israel’s history. Not only did he set her beside his throne, in essence declaring her his equal, but he wrote about her. How many women have aspired to be the Proverbs 31 woman without realizing that they were aspiring to Bathsheba’s godly character?

I love the fact that she is the only female Old Testament type of Christ. What an honor! What a legacy!

Today I feel the ignorant whispers again. I feel the serpent tearing at the scar tissue of old wounds. And I feel close to Bathsheba. I’m glad she endured to the end. She gives me hope.

Of Wine and Ice And Boys and Men

We recently started the New Testament in our study of women in the Bible at the jail. Naturally, Mary, the birth mother of Jesus, is the first one and I have to admit that studying her life has been somewhat of a challenge. I find it easier to relate to wounded or imperfect women than those who seemed to get it right.

So this week I've studied John 2: 1-11, the passage about Jesus's first miracle where he turned the water to wine. It's a very familiar story but for me I just never quite "got it." Sure, it was all there, the wedding, the guests, the water, the pots, Mary, Jesus and the other characters. But what happened between them . . . that's the part that always troubled me. The way Jesus addressed his earthly mother never seemed right. (Without getting too theological here I know it was right, after all He is God. ) One commentator offers this viewpoint, another commentator says that, it seems they're just as confused as I am. Then there's this whole holy mystery of Mary and Jesus shrouded in this theological cloud of mumbo jumbo anyway. Yeah, troubling.

There were a few new revelations. It seems Mary may have been more than an invited guest. As with many weddings friends and family work together to pull off festivities for a new couple. Mary's having the authority to tell the servants what to do give the impression that she's in charge somehow. Else why would the servants obey Jesus?

So I prayed through the passage. It's not something I do often, and admittedly should do more, And this time, boy did I ever get it. When I got to verse four I heard my own son's voice from deep somewhere in my memory.

It was a hot day, a bunch of people were on their way to our house, and we were out of ice. I couldn't leave because I had to greet people and eagerly asked the first person to arrive, my Mike, to run to the store for a couple of bags.

Big Sigh . . "Woman, what am I gonna to do with you?" And he took charge of the situation and saved the day. Nobody knew we had even been out and everyone had a great visit.

Jesus . . . Mike - what an interesting and delightful comparison. Both needs were real, both requests were made by mom's trying to pull off a social event and thinking about the needs of others, and both needs were met by a man/child in process of becoming an independent adult. Mike got the ice. Jesus turned water to wine.

So Jesus's words, "Woman, what have I do do with thee?" no longer read as a rude "get out of my face" remark. I hear Mike. Everything will be ok.

And I hear Jesus lovingly saying, "Roslyn, what am I going to do with you?" And I know he's got it all under control. He's God. He can do that.

You Knew Me!

It’s been almost a year since I met Buford Stitcher. Mr. Stitcher is an older gentleman who lives in Randolph County. I became aware of him ten or fifteen years ago after my husband saw an article about him in our local paper. The significance is that he’s from my hometown. He travels here once or twice a year for a local event. When I asked my mom if she knew anything about him she was quick to reply, “Oh yes! He and your Dad go way back.”

I thought I knew about all my dad’s friends but this was news to me. Whatever the case after my own involvement with the organization he was with, it was hit and miss trying to get up with him. And it finally happened last spring.

When I met Mr. Stitcher I introduced myself and told him who my parents were only to see an astonished reaction as his face dropped and his hands went into the air, “You little girls! I can’t believe how you’ve grown!”

It was my turn for an epiphany. For a moment I was five years old instead of fifty. He knew me.

I have to believe this is how Nathanial felt when Jesus announced “I saw you when you were under the fig tree,” and how the woman at the well felt when she ran into the village proclaiming, “Come see a man that told me all I ever did!”

There’s something comforting and liberating about being known. I immediately felt a kinship and freedom of relationship in the knowledge that Mr. Stitcher had known me as a child. It meant a lot later that year as he hugged me at my father’s viewing.

I take joy today in that my God, my Father in heaven KNOWS me and loves me, and unlike all my earthly relationships that I can only live in ‘in the moment’, He lives in those moments before and behind me as well and loves me there too. He knows who I was yesterday, and is working to change me into who I should be tomorrow.

How can I not love him and accept his comfort today?

The Whore in My Heart

Yesterday was my week for Prison Ministry. As usual, my dear husband got a few jollies at the expense of unknowing acquaintances with his usual, “she’s in jail’, or “she’s getting out of jail” remarks. God love him.

I’ve taught on women in the Bible for years. It’s a good fit for what I do as there are so very many “bad” (thank you Liz Curtis Higgs) women in the Bible. The message behind the story is always the same: Jesus loves broken women, Jesus loves YOU, and died to get you back.

So yesterday’s spotlight was on the wife of Hosea, Gomer. The story is never easy for me as I can’t relate to a woman who would leave her husband and children for any reason. And it’s tough because of the way it’s written. The verses in the book jump back and forth from Gomer and Hosea to God and Israel, then back again. Another reason it’s hard is because a precious family member is going through the fire in his marriage because his wife thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, very similar to Gomer.

And it’s tough because the wild life and lovers and desire for independence that called to Gomer call to me.

Don’t get the wrong idea - I don’t know any bad men seeking unholy fulfillment. But just like Israel left her God to go chasing (whoring) after the pleasures and false gods of the world, I find my own heart pulled every day away from God in more directions than I care to confess.

“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love!”

I’m sure Gomer had no way of knowing that her decisions would ultimately lead to an auction block, her beauty gone, hands tied and barely looking at the ground as people bid on her. The humiliation had to be excruciating. I wonder how she felt when she heard a familiar voice in the crowd outbidding everyone else . . . and I wonder what went through her mind as she heard fifteen silver pieces deposited with the auctioneer, and watched a years worth of food traded as her husband bought her back. Was he going to beat her? Would he invoke the ancient law and have her executed?

No. She was restored, and cherished.

“Such love constrains me.” Gomer reminds me again that nothing, absolutely nothing, will fulfill my heart and my life except relationship with my God. The price he paid to get me off the auction block was heaven's ultimate sacrifice. How can I not love him?

Why in the world would two fresh faced, virgin, PCC or HAC type young men stay at a brothel?

It didn't make sense. The mere thought of such a thing in today's "indy-fundy" culture would be scandalous. Somebody would be bound to write about it in the Sword of the Lord and blackball whatever church or institution they came from.

But it was a different time, a different culture and a war was going on. These guys were spies and as such they did their best to, shall we say, blend in with the culture. I mean, surely, spending the evening with a woman of the night should dispel any thoughts that they might be holy.

And what about their 'hostess' who offered her guests the utmost in ummm, accommodations? We know her story. A whole world of hope and possibility opened up when these guys would not have sex with her. They were holy and their polite decline of her additional services were the very thing that opened dialog between two vastly different world views and led to her trust in the living God.

Sometimes a close encounter with a sharp contrast between ideologies is the very thing people need to get a glimpse of who God is and what He's about. While none of us like what we perceive as conflict, it's sometimes the very thing needed this side of heaven to reach others. I am challenged today not to shy away from anyone "out there" in the world who's thoughts and beliefs are vastly different than mine. They need who I have just as Rahab needed two very peculiar young men to say "no" to her solicitation.

It saved her life.

I'm finding myself convicted by a woman who lived thousands of years ago. She was very rich. Tradition says she was beautiful. She was certainly very powerful as she had an army and more wealth at her disposal than most people would know how to count.

And it wasn't enough. Her heart yearned for answers and upon hearing that answers were to be had she risked it all and set out on a journey in search of what her heart longed for. She took much of her army leaving her country's defenses weak. She risked political ruin by leaving her position. She traveled with a large caravan at risk herself to spend months crossing a dangerous hot desert. She didn't even know if she'd be received as this was an uninvited visit. But she went.

And she was welcomed by one greater and more powerful than herself who didn't immediately answer her questions but told her what her questions were. She found the answers when she found his God.

I know this God. He's been my God and my Savior most of my life. And even living for Him to the best of my ability I suddenly find myself as deficit for answers as she, who had only heard distant rumors of Him. At this point I'm not even sure I know what the questions are. Perhaps I should start with "Am I willing to go extraordinary lengths as she was to find answers to the mysteries I find myself faced with?"

Taking it to the Next Level

Which in my case would be intermediate. But it is nice to be beyond "beginner" as a beekeeper. It's been a while since I had difficulty finding a queen. That's not to say it won't happen, but I'm finding her without looking more and more.

The really BIG news is that I've successfully raised queens! I have to honestly and sincerly thank Lonnie Funderburg who gave me a book on rearing queens and told me quite frankly to quit worrying about it and "just do it," exact words. So I did. I caught that queen, boxed her up to lay eggs where I wanted her to lay them, transferred them to a place where the workers would give them royal jelly and was rewarded with three virgin queens. That necessated the need to pull out that split deep and give them a place to call home. It'll be a couple of weeks before I see how their laying patterns are. They've got to mate first. Bill Miller gave me a link about artifical insemination of bees. I can see it's usefulness for genetic purity of queens especially in light of the aggressive dna of africanized bees. The drones die either way.

Since I'll be handling queens sooner or later I've got to learn to mark them. I guess that's next.

Becky is in Memphis for the week. She and Cindy will be working on music and have an appointment with a recording studio next Saturday. The appt. is here and Mike and Heather are coming in for Easter too. It will be nice. I've got a rough few months ahead of me as Terri will be working long distance via internet for an undetermined time. Her dad is a widower, has terminal cancer and as the only chld she's staying by his side. Can't blame her. I'm glad we can be flexible that way.

In other news, I realized this morning that scripture sanctions the medicinal use of alcohol. It's been under my nose all my life, Proverbs 31:6. Interesting that it was predicated by statements that Solomon should not touch the stuff. Go Bathsheba! I have to love that woman. So now when the kids tease me about my homemade cough syrup it shouldn't be so bad. Hey, you may think you'll never swallow again but the mess works!

I started Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge last week. I'm on chapter 2 now. So far so good. It's a fresh look at womanhood and while I appreciate the author's frustration with trying to live up to some ideal of the perfect woman, I was a little disappointed that she picked on the Prov. 31 woman. I really think it's because modern thinking is that you have to do ALL that ALL the time to be the right kind of woman. NOT! There's no way she could keep that candle going all night with small kids. She's be passed out from sheer exhaustion just trying to keep up with them. And it's not likely she was running a home based business while suffering morning sickness either. Give the woman a break. The things listed there were done over a lifetime. Bathsheba was old or dead when Solomon wrote that. He knew her godly character better than anyone and this chapter reflects what he knew about the woman he admired most in life. And I suspect that between his honoring her with a seat at his right and writing of her nobal character he hoped to silence the accusations against her that continue to this day. I'm sure I'll have more comments after I've read more.

My other muse today concerned Deborah. I've pretty well concluded that some of the old guard in the bee club is gone for good due to the fact that they can't deal with a woman president. That is sad and I would challenge my critics to criticize by doing something better. As a "mother in Israel" Deborah rose to do what was needed during a time that the men did not. God blessed her and made Israel victorious through her leadership and the courage of another woman, Jael. So far God has blessed this bee thing I got myself into. He's given me wisdom to help others as well as the bees. It's been an avenue for blessing on many levels. We're facing a possible crisis right now and I've already got a plan to deal with it should it be needed. Deborah's are a good thing. Don't be a crybaby Barak or a weasel Heber.

Royal Thoughts

It's crossed my mind several times since studying the biology and social structure of bees that something I heard from my dear sister, Cookie, is very true. She had told me that every plot, every character, every story line Hollywood or Bollywood or "whoever" comes up with is in the Bible. It wasn't long after that ABC started showing Desperate Housewives. Yes, I watched a few episodes, more out of curiousity about the murder mystery than anything, and no, I don't watch it now. All that to say this - a Martha wannabe, Potiphar's Wife, the silly woman and Eli's wife were all there. Split them up into their respective years, put robes on them and viola! Bible characters. I think Potiphar's wife was probably the most blatantly obvious of the four original main characters.

But back to bees. Leaning more toward biology than Bible, it's crossed my mind on more than one occasion that si-fi has borrowed heavily from bees. Yes, I watch a bit of si-fi too, mostly Star Trek and Stargate. A lot of the other stuff that poses as si-fi is geeky occult not worth the trash can it needs to go in.

Queen bees have long held a particular reputation as the she-boss of the hive that everything centers around. There is some truth to that, but we'll skip the particulars for now. The important thing to understand for this discussion is that she's the key to hive cohesiveness. It is her pheremone spread throughout the hive from her to one bee, then another, then another as they go about their business, that signals "all is ok." This pheremone determines the "personaility", if you will, of the hive. I had a particularily cantankerous hive once. Replacing the queen caused it to become gentle within a few short weeks. Changes in pheremone tell a hive to prepare to swarm. Absence of pheremone causes a hive to become agitated and worrysome. You can actually hear the difference in a hive when no queen is present.

Relating this to si-fi, it's been interesting to see this concept applied to super villan races in both series mentioned. In Star Trek it was the Borg. Of course they explained it as low frequency sub space transmissions or something like that, but the concept of all within the ship or species being connected via "something" was not new. Same thing for the Raith in Stargate Atlantis. Their ships are called hive ships. Could it be more obvious?

The good part is as believers in Christ, we have such a bond. It's, He's, called the Holy Spirit. His presence in our lives is very precious as He gently (and sometimes not so gently as the need calls for) works to perfect us in Christ. One of my most striking memories is of an event that happened deep in Port-au-Prince, Haiti in the early 80's. Baby Doc was still in power and the country was much safer for Americans then. My dh and our 3 month old were visiting his parents (missionaries) at the time. Dad H drove us into slums that looked worse than anything we had ever seen in Chicago. I was scared to be there. He stopped the jeep in front of what looked like a hole in a wall and we were greeted by a dark skinned man who didn't speak a word of English. We recognized him immediatly though. No, we didn't know his name or his job or anything, but we recognized a brother who loved the same God we love. We visited in his home a while and it was an amazing oasis of peace. Of course Dad H spoke Creole so they conversed, and we never got past "hello", but the bond was there non-the-less.

It's happened many times since then. Deep fellowship with someone you strike converstation with in a tire store in a strange city. (Could that be the reason for that blowout?) Finding someone with a need greater than a clump of bees in their yard who gave you the encouragement your heart desperatly needed? We are after all part of the same body. And Spirit is life.

Ok, so maybe God did that queen pheremone thing as an image of one aspect of Himself. Cool, very cool nontheless.