The Bees in the Rosemary

I went for a walk this morning up a beautifully paved street. I crossed avenues named “Dauntless” and “Exultant” and “Stalwart.” It reminded me of the “ways” that we can walk in when we listen to our heavenly Father—by reading His Word with meekness and using the spiritual connection He gave us through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Deuteronomy 10:12,13:
What doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear [lovingly respect] the Lord thy God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, 
To keep the commandments of the Lord, and his statutes, which I command thee this day for thy good? 

Jesus Christ was dauntless in the face of the Devil’s attacks, exultant at the joy of glorifying his Father, and stalwart to the end. That’s how I want to live my life. That’s why I went on the walk.

At the top of the hill I reached the dirt path that leads up to a small mountainous area. Wearing only sandals, I wanted to see what it would be like to walk the dusty, rocky roads and climbs as Jesus did in his homeland. It was a beautiful sunny day. I learned a lot.

First off, I passed a hedge of rosemary. It grows abundantly in this part of California, and is always abuzz with busy bees collecting pollen. I loved to watch several bees going about their business, seeing their diligence to climb or lift up to another rosemary flower and find the desired pollen. They seemed so “happy” in the sun to just do their job. It reminded me of my brother, Jesus Christ, who always did the will of the Father.

A few feet later I saw a hummingbird sucking nectar from a bush. When I approached, he watched me for a moment, and then found refuge in a nearby palm tree. I was amazed at how easily he glided and how gracefully he landed. I want to be like that with God and His love. Letting it flow beautifully and precisely wherever it needs to be.

Climbing the lower hills put some strain on my legs and the dusty path was lined with dry, sharp wild plants that had been soft and beautifully green-yellow last spring. Now they were rough and brown. I was careful not to scratch myself as I passed through a two-foot-wide walkway. I thought of Jesus Christ climbing the road to Jerusalem, or Samaria, or back to the hills of Nazareth. I took each step carefully, using flat stones as support and avoiding others that might trip me. That’s how I want to live, with each step glorifying God and staying mindful of His guidance and protection.

At the summit, I walked along a level area and heard the voices of other hikers. Soon a couple with a young boy appeared. I let them pass and encouraged them on their way, reminding them what a beautiful day it was. They agreed and hurried on with their walk and conversation. That’s also how I want to live each day, encouraging others to appreciate God’s goodness to us.

Then I began a long trek downward, over slippery and windy trails strewn with small rocks. The dust filled my sandals and grabbed small stones in the process, like a wave at sea picking up kelp in its motion. I learned to shake my feet as I headed down the trail so that most of the dirt and stones were dislodged. That’s how I want to live, with a pure heart toward my heavenly Father and casting off the adversary’s hurts and attacks—with patience and fortitude.

A couple of times I had to stop and remove my sandals. The rocks were too big or jammed under my feet. It was worth taking the time to “clean things up.” Even though my downhill steps were steep, I knew it was important to lean against a bush and get rid of these new impediments before they actually injured me. That’s another way I want to live, recognizing when to just stop, take a breath, and deal with something that could later get bigger and more hurtful. That is especially true with words and deeds. We can love ourselves and others enough to recognize the “stones” and take them out as soon as available, with God’s wisdom as our guide.

When I reached home, I thought about Jesus Christ walking on earth. He was less than half my age when he started his ministry. He probably had only about one year to carry out his purpose of saving mankind. Yet he took one step at a time, and he learned the lessons that he needed to love and stay in touch with his Father.

So can we.