Upon arriving in Lipova, Romania last week for ministry this month, our contact took one look at my team and I and said, “You need rest. Go spend some time with my friends in a village nearby.” At that time, no sweeter words could have been said to me. So, after packing a couple of nights worth of food and clothes, a minibus drove us over winding bumpy roads from Lipova to the village.
We were greeted by our contact’s friends who told us to make ourselves at home in their farmhouse. They said, “We may not have hotel luxury, but we do have peace.”
So true.
Every morning in the village, I spent time with the Lord on a stump behind the barn. I loved listening to nature come awake as breezes caused a subtle stir in the carpet of lush grass and wildflowers, all while remnants of the sunrise painted the sky.
Bliss.
The many bees whirring around me most mornings particularly captured my attention.
I used to be afraid of bees.
Borderline terrified. Reflecting, it wasn’t the actual insect that I feared, but their capacity to hurt me – to sting. (And I’m not even allergic to their stings. Fear is a funny thing.)
One morning on that stump, they surrounded me and I felt not one ounce of fear.
I sat there, observed, realizing I long to be like them. They spread the capacity for life and growth and reproduction with each brief visit to multitudes of blossoms.
May that mark my life as I venture from home to home, people to people, and nation to nation.
Romanian bees are seemingly unlikely but quite powerful teachers.
From my heart,
Erika Venese
