When I was a kid, my father was a beekeeper. Stings were inevitable—especially for a curious, stubborn, fearless kid like me. I suppose God knew my dad would need a little extra wisdom, so He blessed him with plenty of good, old-fashioned common sense. And when it came to bee stings, my dad’s solution was simple: if you can’t keep the kid out of the hives, stock up on meat tenderizer.
Every time I’d get stung, my father would grab the container from his stash with urgency, mix just enough water to make a paste, and gently dab it onto the sting. It wasn’t just about the remedy, though. As he worked, his quiet smile and steady presence said it all: “I’ve got you.” There was a tenderness in his touch and an unspoken assurance that the pain would soon pass.
My father wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a steady one. Faithful, practical, and resourceful, he could handle whatever life threw at him. He was loving in his own way—quick to act, slow to wallow. He didn’t always say much, but his actions spoke volumes. He had a way of showing up for people in those moments when you needed him most, not with grand gestures but with small, steady acts of love that left a lasting impression.
Looking ahead to 2025, I can’t help but think about my dad. I picture him in my mind’s eye: calm and capable, ready with whatever “paste” might be needed for the stings of life. And I can’t help but wish we had more of that kind of wisdom in the world today.
Because the truth is, 2025 feels like it’s going to sting.
The Stings of Change
Stings have a way of waking us up. Some come out of nowhere, sharp and unexpected. Others, we invite through our actions, poking the metaphorical hive and learning the hard way that choices have consequences. Either way, the pain is real. But so is the chance to heal.
If history teaches us anything, it’s that times of upheaval are not only inevitable but necessary for progress. As Caroline Myss reminds us, moments like these bring clarity, stripping away illusions and leaving us face-to-face with the truth.
Crisis always reveals what is in your heart. (Caroline Myss)
Think back to the American Revolution, the Civil Rights Movement, or even the post-World War II era. These were times fueled by the same, and in some cases identical, energies we are experiencing now—moments when the world seemed on the verge of breaking apart. And yet, they were also moments of profound transformation. In the cracks of what was, something new began to grow.
2025 will be another one of those moments. The energies at play are stirring things up, just as they have over the past few years. From the global pandemic to political turbulence, we’ve been living through a slow boil of change—and now, it feels as though the heat is about to be turned up.
But as Kerry K teaches:
Transformation is never gentle, but it is always necessary for the soul’s evolution. (Kerry K)
The pain we feel is not punishment; it’s the discomfort of growth. I pray we rise to the challenge and get it more right this time, finding a way to shape the spoils into something that brings more lasting peace.
Leaning into What Matters
When I think about how we move through moments like these, I come back to the lessons my father taught me. He didn’t have all the answers, but he didn’t need to. What he had was enough: steady hands, a clear head, and a heart full of love for the people around him.
That’s the kind of energy we need now. Not perfection, not expertise, but presence. The willingness to show up, even when we don’t have it all figured out. The courage to act, even when the path forward feels uncertain. And above all, the choice to lead with love—even when fear feels easier.
Christ’s teachings echo this call:
Love one another as I have loved you. (John 13:34)
This is not passive love—it’s love in action. Love that listens, supports, and heals. Love that steps forward even when the way is unclear. Because love, like that meat tenderizer paste, is practical. It’s not just an abstract idea; it’s something we apply in real, tangible ways. It’s listening when someone needs to be heard. It’s stepping in when someone needs help. It’s doing the small, unglamorous work of making things better, even if it’s just one sting at a time.
The Rhythm of Renewal
The stings of 2025 will test us. They’ll challenge our faith, stretch our patience, and ask us to decide—over and over again—what kind of people we want to be. And yet, they will also offer us the chance to grow.
As scripture reminds us:
We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. (Romans 5:3-4)
This is the rhythm of renewal: from pain, we gain strength; through challenge, we find clarity. Yes, the process is painful. But in the end, the sting isn’t what defines us—it’s how we respond. It’s the steady love we bring to the moment. The quiet wisdom that says, “This hurts, but it won’t last forever.” The faith that keeps us moving forward, even when the path ahead is unclear.
Carrying Love Forward
As I reflect on my father’s quiet strength, I realize how much it has shaped me. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t need to be. What he gave me was enough: a model of steady, practical love that I have learned, especially throughout 2024, to balance, and I carry with me to this day.
That’s what I hope to carry—and for all of us to carry—into 2025 and beyond: a balance of empathy and wisdom, the courage to face the stings, and the grace to help each other heal along the way.
When the stings come—and they will—that’s what gets us through. Not certainty, not control, but love. The kind that shows up in small, steady ways. The kind that makes the pain bearable and reminds us we’re not alone.
Because in many ways, the world in 2025 reminds me of who I was as a kid: curious, stubborn, fearless, and sometimes unaware of the consequences of its actions. And just as my father met my restless energy with steady hands and loving solutions, so too must we meet the world—and each other—with that same grace. When the stings inevitably come, let us respond not with frustration or control, but with the wisdom to soothe, the patience to understand, and the love to heal.
So as we step into this year, let’s hold onto that. Let’s lean into the love and light that are always present, even in the darkest moments. As Kerry K says:
The heart is the gateway to higher truths. (Kerry K)
And as Christ teaches us:
Fear not, for I am with you. (Isaiah 41:10)
No matter how sharp the sting, we have what we need to heal. And let us all remember:
The stings don’t get the final word—love does.
The Twin Tree Project 