March 22, 2012

We spent most of the day outdoors today, working (playing) in the yard.  We got the leaves unwedged from the fence, we weeded raked and mowed until the yard either looked great or we were too tired to notice otherwise.

As I dragged the last of the yard waste bags to the curb, I had to pass under a large Weeping Cheery tree, full of life, color and hope.  For a moment it was like entering a cathedral, the stained glass blossoms caught the evening light and filled the space with pale pink petals; reminders of heaven.  I paused to relish the sight and smell of a million blooms when the third of my senses kicked in, and I heard the hymn of a hundred bumble bees, praising their creator with wings to small to sustain flight.  I say a hundred, it might have been half that number, but then again it could have been ten times that number, there were too many to count.  Besides I had no desire to count, I just wanted to worship along with them.

To the untrained ear, it might have sounded like buzzing.  A musician might have called it humming.  But I am pretty sure, because I was caught in that nick of time called “right now,” that it was not a hum that was calling forth from that chorale of thumb-sized creatures.

It was a Himmmmmmm!

On the very best day, with the very best voices, in the very best key, with the very best orchestra providing support, humans can only produce a shallow imitation of the worship sung by those with nothing else to do but to sing.   That doesn’t mean we should stop trying, but I think it does mean we should not get too full of our own great songs.  I could listen to Bach or Mozart all day long.  I can listen to Tomlin and Baloche and Crowder for hours.  But just a few moments with the bees  in the trees, and I heard a days worth of praise.

And I am grateful.


One Response to “Himmmmmmm”

  1. It was great! I was thinking I wished I could record the ‘music’ under those pink blossoms.

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