Jesus Bees

I told Big Guy that his Jesus Bee trap was wobbling. I pointed at the edge of the trap hung from the roof outside the screen porch. One carpenter bee carcass lies curled on its side in an upside down water bottle, part of the trap. Big Guy assured me that the trap was fine. It perplexes him that I call carpenter bees "Jesus Bees," but who except Jesus the carpenter could cut such perfect circles? I rarely refer to Jesus or ask for things in His Name as so often I've heard others spout Jesus or Mohammad or Allah with the certainty that they alone know what Jesus or another Holy One would want. My Jesus, or by whatever other name a deity exists, simply wants carpenter bees to be carpenter bees. I also think he, she or whomever, wants poor people to be thought about, families to be right-sized and healthy, and women to be treated with respect. But those are bigger issues than Jesus bees. And they, I might add, have their own set of problems to worry about. Big Guy's got a trap. And one Jesus bee found out the hard way, it works.