I don't know what it is called, but I have a plant that loves the sun. It loves the sun so much, that I have 19 pots of it. I'm not exaggerating. I really do have 19. My balconies get tons of sun - one major portion of my bedroom balcony gets over twelve hours of it. So, I'm limited to what will stay alive there. Thus, the 19 pots. Plus, it's one of those plants that you can't kill and one that reproduces like rabbits. But that's a whole other blog. Anyway... this plant has little flowers on it that only open in the sun. And when they open they get visitors. Lots and lots of visitors. Bees! Little bees. Big bees. Chubby story-book fuzz-ball bees.
Bees are not my favorites, although the chubby story-book fuzz ball ones are kind of cute. However, I could live with only seeing them in books. And how in the world did we make such a nasty, harmful creature "cute"? Again, I'm getting off-subject. The point is - that I don't like the hundreds (I'm not exaggerating) of bees that dip down from who-knows-where at 2 in the afternoon every day. They make me nervous.
But, I do like their honey. And I keep hearing how the States is loosing agriculture because there aren't enough bees. They've all come to Italy, is my opinion.
The truth is - those pesky bees... well, they end up giving us life.
And those other pesky things we don't like in our lives... the overwhelming responsibilities, the struggles in communicating, the continual dying to ourselves... well, those too give us life.
2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. - James 2


Popular Posts