This morning I sat on my patio, trying to find my focus. Seeking quietness, beauty, the wisdom of morning and the satisfaction that comes from watching birds at the feeder before fetching my breakfast.
Lately, I feel as though my life continues on a path with an unknown end. In a moment I find myself surprised at my response to the things that come my way.
I find myself dissatisfied with myself, restless. Burdened.
Listless…
For someone who is known for enthusiasm, listless is as far to the other side one can get without…well, without really going to “The Other Side”. I know you know I am not talking Star Wars here.
But there it is. I am listless. It is the word that best describes my whole demeanor since we have been home from vacation.
A vacation we shuffled off to after what seems to be an incomplete journey, with no specific beginning and no end in clear sight.
I wonder if listlessness comes after one has spent too much time in The Land of Limbo. You know, the place where there are no pat answers, and everyone you happen upon speaks in clichés at you, while you wait for hope to return, after which they go upon their merry way to the “I’ll pray for you” from a Safe Distance place. Never to be seen or heard from again.
Or maybe it comes when you have spent too long trying at something and can’t muster up the strength to keep trying anymore.
Perhaps it’s after you have heard the suggestions and advice from many who believe they have the answers.
Or after the “professionals” can’t agree on a diagnosis.
Or when your prayers have trailed off to an empty gaze and a wordless groan.
Maybe listless comes when there are no answers in sight at all.
Does listless come when you face your dreams and realize they might slip away, for good?
Or when you look around and only see and feel pain and suffering, as if someone has thrown a spotlight on both, causing them to standout from all else, like a glaring, uncomfortable floodlight.
I don’t know the answer. But this morning as I sat with my journal in my lap, a bee happened upon my thigh.
In that moment God reminded me how the gift of writing continues to keep me.
In my listlessness, I am still kept by the One who holds me faithfully.
The Bee on my Knee
A bee landed
on my knee…
Perhaps he,
confused by my Lavender lotion,
was as surprised as I.
After my initial reaction-
which quite effectively
whisked him away
I returned to my chair,
hoping he’d not dare
on my lavender-ed lap
again.
I wonder pain, and what is it’s gain?
I wonder who has the strength to endure
the startling reality
of the unexpected turn.
Who escapes without wounds,
when He whom we call our own
did not avoid the pain
but suffered it
securing our freedom.
Our freedom is not found
in avoiding pain
or suffering
but in knowing
in the end
is a greater glory.
As we endure,
we become part of His story
and leave a trail of grace.
Thanks to a bee on my knee
at that early hour
who reminded me
of eternity,
when he mistook me for a flower.
May you be kept by the One who makes bees, knees, birds and trees and from whom all blessings flow, and who is the giver of gifts and words.
Linking with:
Kelli @ Chronicles of Grace today
Laura B. @ The Wellspring
Juana @ Juana Mikels
Jen @ The Soli deo Gloria Sisterhood
Ramona @ Create with Joy
Enthusiastically, Dawn 
17 responses to “The Bee on My Knee and Listlessness Defined”
Dawn, truly beautiful and deep. Makes me think about so many things like small things matter, be in the moment and gratitude. I love your poem. Really beautiful!
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A most special post for we all have these places in out lives where the road goes to nowhere and we feel so bereft, so aimless, so…so many ways. You write beautifully, whether prose or poetry. Glad I came by from SDG.
Caring through Christ, ~ linda
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Listless. That’s a great word for what I feel and what I have felt for a long time. I’d not artciulated it that way. I wondered if I am list-less, then what does it mean to list? And I discovered that one meaning (heretofore unknown by me) is to desire. Another fairly archaic meaning is to “list” to something or someone, or to “listen.” I also had to smile when I thought that if I am not using a “listing” technique in my journal, then I am list-less. =] And sometimes this spontaneous, quick listing of things on a particular topic will help surface what is smoldering or lurking beneath. Dawn, you might try quickly listing why you are listless. I think that I will do the same. And maybe God will surface some unfulfilled desires that He could help us seek, which just might break that streak of listlessness. I tend to listen well in my journal. Don’t you?
Thanks for this neat post. You are the bees knees in my book! =]
Love
Lynn
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Haha, The bees knees! I did look up that saying during my writing time actually! It came up when I was looking for something about bees…I actually journaled the poem in my journal this morning, but I will list all the whys as you suggest, although I think I probably am less vague then while sharing here on the blog and the whys are clearly articulated in the private space between pen a paper. I wanted to tell you how much I am loving the Streams in the Desert during this season…I guess it was God’s timing for me to crack open that book. Well, thanks for the smile and input my journal writing, friend!
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Oh, Dawn. My heart just hurts…I know your struggle has been long (and I don’t even know half of it, I’m sure), but I love how you show us in beautiful, raw form, how He talks to us…how His voice can rise against the emotions and the pain and the unknown state of limbo. Thank you for sharing your heart with us, Dawn. You are loved.
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Yes, that’s true, Dawn. When it’s just God and we, then we (usually) are much more transparent. That’s also wise, because not everything is meant for public eyes. =] Oh! I am so glad you are loving Streams and journaling about it. My journal version of that, written at a very difficult time in my life, was so comforting and life-changing. You should recommend this to your readers (well, I guess you have!)! =] And you can see w/ that Bees Knees comment that I am hopelessly old-fashioned, and I also had a grandmother who was of that vintage. Enjoy your listing. I’m going to do that, too.
Love
Lynn, your journaling friend of the heart
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Loved, loved, LOVED this, Dawn. Listlessness….the bane of ADDer’s life. It comes to call so often and sticks around until its welcome is worn out most times. That line “but in knowing in the end is a greater glory. As we endure, we become part of His story and leave a trail of grace.” Yes! I persevere because in the end there is grace in His story.
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I love you Stacy, we are like sisters separated at birth…which I guess is good because we don’t fight, right? 😉 Hugs! Thanks for always getting me.
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I understand listless. It’s like a small town I’ve stopped out on a journey when I just stop because the journey has overwhelmed me – so I take myself there and linger around, letting everything absorb, until my mind clears and I realize I’m not getting anywhere – better just get on with it – because the sooner I’m back into the fray the sooner I’m through it. Pulling off, stopping and just being listless for awhile for me is like a sloughing off, organizational, rejuicing (though not refreshing) kind of place to be – though you said it all so much more beautifully! I needed to hear someone else explain it!!!
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I’ve been all kinds of listless lately, and have since moved on to “fake it until you make it” land. Girl, what a lesson from that bee who landed on your knee. I am not sure why we are called to endure pain and heartache. I am most sure of the One who holds you and will never let you go! Hugs!
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Hi Dawn. I saw your link over on JuanaMikels.com. I can completely identify with feeling listless! Something happened in my life last November that hurt so badly, it totally took the drive out of my life. I was praying about it one day and realized it felt like my will to live was gone. I blogged about it at the link above. But anyway, I’m grateful that God helped me. Some other times, though, I’ve felt like that and it was just a season of rest – which this Type A girl isn’t used to. No matter what’s going on in your life right now, I hope you feel better soon. 🙂
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Hi Dawn. I saw your link over on JuanaMikels.com. I can completely identify with feeling listless! Something happened in my life last November that hurt so badly, it totally took the drive out of my life. I was praying about it one day and realized it felt like my will to live was gone. I blogged about it here: http://www.fromhispresence.com/how-to-regain-the-will-to-live/. But anyway, I’m grateful that God helped me. Some other times, though, I’ve felt like that and it was just a season of rest – which this Type A girl isn’t used to. No matter what’s going on in your life right now, I hope you feel better soon. 🙂
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Hey Dawn, I’m visiting from Juana’s too. I loved the poem. I love that God has given you this gift of writing, and He meets you there so that you can in turn multiply that grace sharing the Presence with others. In my listless days Psalm 37:3,4 became my teacher. Thanksgiving is magical too. I pray many blessings on you. ~andy
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Pure, pure holiness here, Dawn. I have copied the poem into my journal to read and reflect again and again. I am wholly confident that the Jesus who whispers such loveliness in your spirit is holding you close and will bless this season of your story with his grace. Thank you for linking at Unforced Rhythms.
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Thank you, Beth. Blessed by your words.
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Hi Dawn,
I’m visiting from Juana Mikel’s site, thought we’ve connected before via my Mothers Like Me blog. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, your heart, your poem. May the Lord encourage and strengthen you as He walks with you through whatever valley you are in. Love to you in Christ.
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[…] I give you the birth of a poem: […]
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