Where the Name Came From

People ask about the name at the tent, usually while they’re paying, and I never give the same answer twice because it’s hard to say quickly. So here’s where the As It Is In Heaven name came from, written down.

The line it comes from

It’s from the Lord’s Prayer. On earth as it is in heaven.

Most people recognize it right away, and it’s why the name reads like a fragment. It is one. It’s the back half of a line people finish in their heads before I’m done saying it.

Nobody sat down and brainstormed names. That line was already the thing, and putting it on a sign was the only decision anyone made.

The part that’s about honey

The name points further back than the prayer, and this is the part I like.

The land promised in Exodus is described as flowing with milk and honey. It was given to the people who’d live in it. They didn’t build it or earn it.

That’s a specific idea about where good things come from, and it’s a very accurate description of beekeeping. I don’t make honey. Bees make honey out of flowers I didn’t plant, on farms I don’t own, and my whole contribution is putting the box in a sensible place and staying out of the way.

Anyone who keeps bees for a while ends up with some version of that thought. Ours is just on the sign.

What it means for how we run things

If what you have was given instead of earned, then holding onto all of it is a strange position to take.

So some of what this makes goes back out. Knowing people at the market and remembering what they were dealing with last time. Offerings into things happening around the valley. Sometimes just handing someone a jar.

I’m not going to put a percentage on that. A number turns into a marketing claim the second it’s written down, and then the giving is doing two jobs, and the second one spoils the first.

What I want this business to represent is the love of God and what he gives us, and how we can give some of it back to the community. That’s the closest thing we have to a mission statement, and I’d rather it stayed one sentence than became a page.

The sign and the bee

The mark is a honeybee engraved inside an arch. It’s on the sign that stands on the table, it’s printed on the paper bags, and it isn’t on the jars.

The jars are plain Ball and Kerr mason jars with a sealed lid and nothing else. That’s less a design decision than the absence of one. Honey goes in a jar. The name lives on the sign.

I mention it because a nice label tells you about whoever designed it, and what I’d rather you judged is what’s in the jar.

Nobody gets preached at

People sometimes seem to be bracing for it, so I’ll say it plainly.

You can buy honey from us without hearing any of this. The name is on the sign, the reference is under it, and that’s as far as it goes. Everyone pays the same and everyone gets the same jar.

If you want to know why the name says what it says, this is the page. If you want twenty dollars of honey, that’s here, and it comes with no conversation attached.

What the business is

Under the name it’s a small family operation. Kobe is the muscle and does the loading. Elias is seven, Harper is two, Zariah is brand new. We sell as a family from a tent at pop-up markets around the valley, mostly in the summer.

The rest is about 500 hives on organic farms, honey that goes through one strainer and no heat, beeswax by the pound, and a tallow lotion I have opinions about.

Those opinions are where the rest of the writing is. This page is just the name.