It is the busiest week of the year. I still managed to fall asleep in the garden in the sun today, but it’s still very busy.
The church is in overdrive this week with every conceivable thing happening and hundreds coming and going for a multitude of reasons. Parents such as myself are in a crescendo of stationery buying, except me. I can’t face the shops again. I should learn to do the Marks and Spencer online thing, I really should. One trip to WH Smith is all that stands between me and a transition to our new normality: three children at school and me working again.
I can’t wait. The year off has been brilliant; the summer has been UNBELIEVABLY lovely. But I can’t wait to get back to work too – so that I can be tidy and creative and, most importantly of all, NOT having to spend every day deciding what other people are going to eat, making it for them and tidying up afterwards.
One can only make so many cheese toasties before losing the plot completely.
And then they say “what’s for pudding?” Eh…. nothing?
So the church was such a hive of activity this week, I thought I’d explore the hive as a metaphor for church activity. It doesn’t really work. All very well for Sue Monk Kidd in “The Secret Life of Bees” and Fannie Flagg in “Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe” – but there is too much sororicide in a beehive for the metaphor to work.
But, there are certainly workers, comings and goings, sweet things, community events, and a definite buzz about the place.
But the beehive is a community where the members go out, find the good stuff, bring it in and tell the others where to find it. Then they all pile out and find it and bring it back, stash it in hexagonal prisms and make it into honey. Then, the hive owner comes along and takes the honey away, labels it up as if he has made it and sells it on and I eat it on toast.
If this is a metaphor then the bees are like postmodern inverse missionaries…
I need a new metaphor…