But…
What if… what if they were not free? Would they know it?
There is a bottle, top off of course because with the top on
death is surely imminent. The Bees are captured in the bottle. Freedom awaits
them at the top of the bottle but do they know it? As they fly in captivity-
up, down, circling, confused. What do they do? Their tiny wings are in a frenzy
of activity but going nowhere. There is no pedal, no nectar dripping from the
sweet flower. Only space. Their perspective is skewed. They can see thru the
bottle. But, the ridges, the curves, the thickness of the glass taints the
truth. Their reality is different. No longer do the rays of sunlight allow them
to bask in its glow. Instead, the warmth and comfort from the sun has turned
into intense heat as it is magnified thru the glass searing their skin. There
is no air gently billowing around them helping them in flight. There is only
stagnant air compressing their breath- their flight-their will.
Some will venture to the top of the bottle. They will
bravely go through it’s slim neck as the heat continues to get more intense as
they rise. They will see the small opening at the top. Not knowing what awaits
them they will forge forward with faith. Their little wings beating in a
frenzy, with no rhythmic pattern- just flying, hoping that what is on the
outside is better than the reality of the bottle. As they get to the opening-
they will hesitate for just a moment: waiting, hovering, wondering what awaits.
As they bravely crest the tip of the bottle they get their first glimpse of the
reality outside. It is different! It is MAGNIFICNET! The winds are blowing freely and the smell of
wildflowers in bloom have overtaken them. Nectar! They boldly FLY! They have
found the vastness, the wonder, the true place they are supposed to be- God’s
intention for them. Freedom is theirs!
But, sadly not all the Bees will find the soulful
contentment of the freedom of God’s design for them. Some, will have just
enough courage to fly thru the narrow corridor of the bottle hoping to crest
the top and yet when they get to the opening where freedom awaits they stop. Fear
has paralyzed their freedom. They know the reality of the bottle is not their
purpose but it is comfortable. They know the bottle. Their spirit is sad but it
is secure-secure in a reality that was never meant to be theirs. Their will and
their wings give up and they listlessly settle back into the bottle. But, every
once in a while their spirit will rise up. They may get a sweet breathe of air
that has pushed its way down the neck of the bottle and get reminded of what
could possibly be outside. They get courageous!
They fly as fast as they can to the top with their tiny wings in
alignment for a brief moment of time with their spirit! They flutter and fly in
a whirling circle to the top! “This time
I am going to do it! This time!!!” they think. As they get to the top they catch a glimpse,
they smell the intense smell of the nectar! But wait- why are they not forging
mightily thru the opening?? Why have their wings begin to slow in flight? Keep
going!! And then their frenzy of fluttering turns into a wisp of slow saddening
movements and their wings quit flying. In an instant they feel themselves
descending back into the abyss of the bottle. They have given up. Flight and
freedom allude them once again.
And yet, there is another, even more heartbreaking, bee. The
one that never tries to fly to the top at all. Content with slowly circling the
base of the bottle never to even know what awaits at the top. The sweet nectar,
the wildflowers, the billowing wind, the endless flight of Gods’ intent for
them- they will never know. Their days will simply be… days. No joy. No fast
fluttering of their wings in anticipation of what is to come. Just…time. Joy-
there is none. Just existence. While
their freedom awaits them at the top the bottle they will perch themselves in
the reality of the mire at the bottom of bottle. Oh... they can see the ones
that have bravely forged to the top and found their willful escape. They can
see them thru the bumps and ridges of the glass! They see them floating, flying,
feasting and yet they chose to stay.
You see my friend- we are the Bees. We have been given our
freedom. It is ours to take but, we must chose to fly. God is a gentleman. He
will not force our freedom upon us but he will weep if we chose not to take it.
He has opened the top of the bottle but we must fly out in faith. Which bee are
you my beloved?
Concept: Bambi Flores
Writer: Anisa Coates
