petaltothehive

Honey Drop 24: The Scatter and the Still

eejoseph,

“Whether a tree falls to the south or to the north, in the place where it falls, there it will lie… Sow your seed in the morning and do not be idle in the evening, for you do not know…” Ecclesiastes 11:3–6 

The scene

A leader resigns quietly after years of service. No scandal, no ceremony. Just a final meeting, a closed laptop, and a walk into the woods. Months later, young artists gather in that forest, sketching beside the fallen tree where he used to pray.

The comfort – the tension

You do not know which sowing will succeed. You do not choose the direction of your fall. But the place you land—once still, once broken—can become a shelter. The fallen tree is no longer climbing, but it is hosting. Moss, nests, shade, memory.

The drop

Fall well. Lie long. Let your resting place become a frame for new life. 
Scatter in the morning. Scatter in the evening. Let futility be the frame, not the verdict.

Honey Drop 23: The Crumb and the Cry

eejoseph,

“Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table”.
Matthew 15:27

The scene

She did not ask for the feast. 
She asked for the fragment. 
Not because she thought herself unworthy, 
but because she knew what a crumb could do.

The cry was not polite. 
It was persistent. 
It was not rehearsed. 
It was real.

The comfort – the tension

Faith is not always loud— 
but it is always heard. 
And mercy is not measured 
by portion, 
but by presence.

Even the crumbs carry power 
when they fall from the hand of Christ. 
Even the cry of an outsider 
can move the heart of heaven.

The drop

So cry out. 
Not for what you deserve, 
but for what He delights to give. 
The table is wide. 
And the crumbs are enough.

Honey Drop 22: The Chain and the Choice

eejoseph,

Now I want you to know, brethren, that my circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel, so that my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else, (Philippians 1:12-13)

My chains are in Christ

Some chains are not chosen— 
but some are. 
Not all bonds are burdens. 
Some are vows.

He did not flee the cell. 
He filled it. 
He did not curse the chain. 
He consecrated it.

The comfort – the tension

The gospel is not hindered by walls. 
It echoes through them. 
The Word is not bound— 
even when the witness is.

Freedom is not the absence of limits. 
It is the presence of love 
that chooses to stay, 
even when it could run.

The drop

So let the chain be worn, 
not as shame, 
but as sign. 
This is the choice of Christ— 
to bind Himself to us 
and call it fullness of joy for himself and for us.

Honey Drop 21: The Bruise and the Balm

eejoseph,

Scenarissima (scene supreme)

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)

Trauma accepted

He did not hide the bruise. 
He bore it. 
Not to shame the body, 
but to show the cost of peace.

The balm did not come in haste. 
It came in Him. 
Not to erase the wound, 
but to dwell within it.

There is a doctor on scene

Healing is not always sudden. 
Sometimes it is slow, 
like mercy moving through muscle, 
like grace growing in grief.

The drop

By His wound we are healed
not just in story,
but in soul.
The bruise remains, 
but the balm sings.

Honey Drop 20: The Shell and the Shout

eejoseph,

Irrepressible vocal witnesses

“I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” 
Luke 19:40

Some praise is stored, 
not suppressed. 
Like a shell holding sound 
until the sea returns.

The silence is not absence
it’s anticipation. 
The shout is not noise
it’s necessity.

Creation does not forget its Maker. 
It waits. 
It groans. 
It gathers breath 
until the moment erupts.

The comfort – the tension

Even the stones
those still, speechless witnesses
are wound tight with worship. 
And when the king comes, and humans hush
they will not hold back.

The drop

So let the shell split. 
Let the shout rise. 
Let the hidden hallelujah 
find its voice.

Honey Drop 19: The Mirror and the Mercy

eejoseph,

“Her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much.” 
Luke 7:47

In the company of storms

She saw herself clearly;
not because the room was bright, 
but because Mercy had entered it.

The mirror was not the law, 
but the look in His eyes. 
Not the record of wrongs, 
but the recognition of love.

Warning up the frozen

She did not flinch. 
She wept. 
She did not flee. 
She poured.

Mercy does not distort the truth. 
It deepens it. 
It does not excuse the past— 
it embraces the person.

The drop

This is how love sees: 
not less clearly, 
but more kindly. 
And in that kindness, 
the soul remembers who it is.

Honey Drop 18: The Thread and the Thorn

eejoseph,

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 
2 Corinthians 12:9

Thorns and Roses

There is a thread that does not snap 
when the thorn presses in. 
It does not fray when prayers go unanswered, or rather, when the answer is grace.
The thorn is not the failure of love, 
but the form it sometimes takes. 
It humbles the hand, slows the stride, teaches the soul to lean.

Tandem, tension, treasure

Power, we thought, would look like triumph. 
But it came cloaked in ache, 
perfecting itself not in our strength 
but in our surrender.

So we boast—not in the thorn, 
but in the thread that holds. 
Not in the wound, 
but in the grace that weaves through it.

The drop

Perfection and Power do not parade in strength;
they whisper through Weakness and Wishing. 
This is the apostolic witness: 
grace, sufficient and strong, 
threaded through the thorn.

Honey Drop #17: The Shadow That Shines

eejoseph,

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me…” — Psalm 23:4

The scene

Few people expect the valley to last this long. The diagnosis comes and goes, but the dread lingers. The calls slow down. The prayers feel thin. Yet in the quiet, something shimmers — not escape, but presence.

The comfort – the tension

The tension is in the shadow — not full darkness, but the outline of it. Comfort doesn’t come from the absence of fear, but from the nearness of God. The valley isn’t skipped; it’s walked through.

Dropping honey

The valley casts a heavy shade, 
But still I walk, unafraid. 
Not by light, but by the hand 
That holds me firm where shadows stand.

Even the shadow will shine, 
When and where the King is mine.
The fear may whisper, death may loom,  
But love has carved a brighter room.  
And in that hush, I learn to sing:
The shadow shines when held by the King.