From The Backwoods Pew

Melody in B

Without hesitation, and with no truck. When he is nearing a major Don’t miss that. A bruised reed is formal training, mind you, I lifted cardio-infarction, he removes his one that has already been pushed up my voice and sang out for all to hat and makes his last stand there in over. It’s bent, it won’t straighten up.

Over the years, I hear. Birds sitting in the trees that the woods. Flailing away like an It is ready to be broken. It has no have found that I day have yet to sing so great, as was ancient knight of old, he desperately strength to stand up on its own any am growing older! their embarrassment to have heard a tries to knock back the mob of more. Picture the candlewith no I do not move voice like mine. Even today, so angry bees. flame left to light the way, darkness through the woods many years later, I can still remem- Exhausted, hurting, swelling,the is surrounding it, only a faint glow is with the same ener- ber the words to that song, that forester’s day is over. He must left on the wick. Jesus comes to us, gy and coordina- melodious sonnet that I sang from make it back to the truck for the as we flail away at life. We are tion,which is a fancy way of sayAntill my very soul…actually it was because of my sole, the right one Benadryl, or the ammonia, or whatever he carries in the glove combruised and battered. He longs to hold us in his hands, and to caress us ing I get tired and stumble more first, then the left one, as both soles partment to deal with stings and gently with a soft breath; he wants to now. But I remember a time, a par- had found themselves resting on top bites. If he is allergic to bee stings, give us the strength to stand and ticular day in fact, when the idea of of a nest of ground bees! he opens his notebook to begin his regain the glow of life and of light. the Olympics and world fame were As the awakened ground bees last will and testament. Isaiah continues in verses 6 & 7: not so far-fetched. Mercury with his poured out of their nest, covering Have you ever had a day like that? “I, the LORD, have called You in winged feet would have had to put my legs, my voice sang the most Exhausted, hurting, and eyes swelled righteousness, and will hold Your it in overdrive to have stayed with feared song in the swamp, with tears. You have been flailing at hand; I will keep You and give You me that day. Deer dropped their “BEES!!!” It is not the cottonmouth the air, fighting an unseen foe, striv- as a covenant to the people, as a light heads in shame as I streaked past that rules the swamp or strikes ter- ing to be strong but with every swing to the Gentiles, to open blind eyes, them. Rabbits screamed for my ror into the forester, it is the bee. A the pain of another hit, another sting. to bring out prisoners from the autograph as I left them in the dust simple creature, but one that always A friend has failed you; a job was prison, those who sit in darkness of my dash. It was certainly a jaw- comes to the party with friends, lots lost; an addiction continues to con- from the prison house.” dropping, eyes-bugging-out display of friends. Running into a bees’ trol; what you thought was forever Nothing we face is greater than of athletic prowess. nest, either in a tree we are measur- has ended. Time you thought was on what Jesus can do for us. No sur-

It was not the jolt of a soda or the ing or ground we are walking over, your side has left the building. prise in our life is a surprise to him. sugar-high from breakfast, but a is never a good thing. Since it is Maybe it was more than just a day; He waits, longing for us to surrensong that moved me that day. A usually a nest the forester steps on maybe it was a week or a year or der to him, to give him our pain, to song that began first as a distant or bumps, the odds are the forester maybe it’s the story of your life. One take the stings of this life for us. hum: faint, an echo on the wind. will get stung more than once. On sting after another. With each hope- Stop singing about the bees; stop Perhaps it was the wind. The sound that particular day in question, the less swat, another cry comes from running through the woods; fall into was weak, scarcely able to hold my number of stings neared triple dig- your lips. Life on the bee’s nest will the arms of Jesus, and “Sing to the attention. Soon it began to amplify, its. But what a dash. To see a make you run. LORD a new song, and His praise to swell in both its splendor and its forester motivated to run through The prophet Isaiah records this from the end of the earth…” (Isaiah clarity. As that beautiful melody the woods with a hive of bees in description of Jesus in his book, in 42: 10a). began to reverberate in my ear, it close pursuit is a sight to see. His chapter 42 and verse 3. It shows began to move me. Like any good first move is to run towards any how he will respond to people who piece of music, it took hold of my partners in the woods with him, in are hurting:“A bruised reed He will mind, making me want to become a hopes the bees will split off and not break, and smoking flax He will part of the majestic anthem, and to attack his “former” friends. If that not quench; He will bring forth jusadd my voice to it. fails, he heads for water or the tice for truth.” Excerpted from Faith, Fur, and Forestry, Brad Antill author

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