When a newcomer to the group asked everyone to share why they were there, he unknowingly invited the room out of information and into testimony. The conversation moved from ideas about loss to the actual stories of loss. In that moment, something shifted. Walls came down. Defenses relaxed. People became vulnerable.

She spoke gently. “The Joy of the Lord is your strength.” She handed me her book titled Restored to Carry Joy. A sunflower bloomed across the cover. She explained how a sunflower turns its face toward the sun from dawn to dusk.

Perhaps the dream wasn’t merely about observation, but participation. Not just watching the hive but being drawn close enough to feel it. To be covered by it. To recognize that my life, too, is meant to be spent in service for something far greater than comfort or accumulation.

Just as He dried up the Red Sea and the Jordan River, God intervened in my life with power only He could display. He carried me through what I couldn’t survive on my own. I crossed over not because I was strong, but because His hand was mighty.

The encouragement isn’t to stop working altogether, but to check the motive and direction of our work.