March 30, 1999
“Praise the Lord, my Master and
Guide; the ruler of all that has been and all that will be.
I am a lowly sinner, ashamed of the countless times I have let thee
down… and yet you continue to forgive me, and to bless me with so much more
than I deserve.”
“Now here I am, on my knees once again, asking (no pleading) for your help. In the name of thy only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, I call upon you now for strength as I face my greatest fear…Bees! Please Lord, hear my cries and see my tears. I have much left to do on this planet, and although I will happily return Home whenever thou wilt call me, I beg that it not be now. Not when I am just beginning to understand the glory of thy works and thy love. Please protect me in this, my hour of need. In Jesus name….Amen.”
That is a direct quote from the pages of my journal… a small section of one very large entry I made while I was camped in the desert with Sarah (the Indian lady). On our third day there, my RV was literally swarmed by Africanized bees and I was held prisoner inside for more than two hours. It sounded like a hailstorm as they attacked my RV and the hum was so loud I turned on my tape recorder to capture the unbelievable sound. Using washcloths and socks, I plugged every hole I could think of, but still they found a way inside. We tried to leave, but Sarah, (in her RV), became stuck in the desert sand and there was no way I could leave her behind. (I didn’t even have to wrestle with that decision.) I tried to get her to come to my RV so we could get the heck out of there… but she refused; afraid to make the 50 yard journey between the two RVs and afraid to leave all her worldly possessions in the desert.
It was truly a traumatic experience for me, because not only am I deathly allergic to bees, but they are my ONLY real phobia in life. I guess it was time for me to face my biggest fear… head on. For the first time in my 48 years, I actually “smelled” my own fear. It was so acidic it burned my nostrils and made my eyes water; like smelling ammonia. The story is long… but the fact that I am here to tell it is ending enough. (You can bet the story will deserve a whole chapter in my book though!) According to Arizona Fish and Game (who took sample bees from among the ones I killed inside my RV), they were Africanized bees and it was their best guess that they were after the water in my tanks. Africanized bees killed four people in Arizona this week, but I was not among them. (Thank you Guardian Angel!)
Needless to say, when we returned to Parker after the “bee” experience, I was most eager to get out of town. But something stopped me... I can’t explain it but I feel very strongly that for some reason I am to remain here, at least for the time being. And so I shall stay… until I figure out just what it is.
I’ll keep you posted!
The place in the desert where the bees swarmed my RV. The woman is Sister Sarah.