Our bees are gone.
I have been dreading telling you this bad news, but moths got in our bee hive, filling it with nasty webby stuff, creepy cardboardy egg/nest thingies, and loathsome charcoal-colored grainy residue. It happened several months ago. When we saw it, we got so discouraged, we never went back.
Now it is Advent, and suddenly I am longing to clean the bee hive and get a fresh start. Maybe it's from thinking about John the Baptist living off locusts and wild honey. Maybe it's the whole idea of cleansing my soul of moths and nasty webby stuff to prepare for the coming of the Lord. I don't know, but I am filled with happy anticipation about the work to be done. I am hopeful, not discouraged.
After all, there is so much to look forward to in Bethlehem and in the bee-loud glade. The Prince of Peace is coming, dropping from the veils of the morning to where the angels sing.
On Jordan's Bank the Baptist's Cry
On Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry
announces that the Lord is nigh;
awake and hearken, for he brings
glad tidings of the King of kings.
Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within,
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.
For thou art our salvation, Lord,
our refuge and our great reward;
without thy grace we waste away
like flowers that wither and decay.
To heal the sick stretch out thine hand,
and bid the fallen sinner stand;
shine forth and let thy light restore
earth's own true loveliness once more.
All praise, eternal Son, to thee,
whose advent doth thy people free;
whom with the Father we adore
and Holy Ghost for evermore.
--from the Oremus Hymnal
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