an excerpt from The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd . . .
"Was your Big Mama the one who taught you to keep bees?"
August took off her glasses and cleaned them on the scarf at her waist. "She taught me lots more about bees than just how to keep them. She used to tell me one tall bee tale after another."
I perked up, "Tell me one," I said.
August thumped her finger on her forehead like she was trying to tap one of them off some back shelf in her head. Then her eyes lit up, and she said, "Well, one time Big Mama told me she went out to the hives on Christmas Eve and heard the bees singing the words of the Christmas story right out of the gospel of Luke." August started singing then in a humming sort of way, "Mary brought forth her firstborn child and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in the manger.'"
I giggled. "Do you think that really happened?"
"Well, yes and no," she said. "Some things happen in a literal way, Lily. And then other things, like this one, happen in a not-literal way, but they still happen. Do you know what I mean?"
I didn't have a clue. "Not really," I said.
"What I mean is that the bees weren't really singing the words from Luke, but still, if you have the right kind of ears, you can listen to a hive and hear the Christmas story somewhere inside yourself. You can hear silent things on the other side of the everyday world that nobody else can. Big Mama had those kind of ears . . . "
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I get that.
I hear that.
This makes me feel like I'm not the only one.
Like hearing those things
is real
is good
is ok.
{I know. This is just a fiction book. But I relate.}
This is what I get:
God speaks my language.
He knows each individual language.
Deeper than English, Spanish, Japanese.
He know the language of my individual, unique, authentic heart.
Of your individual, unique, authentic heart.
And if I listen wholeheartedly
He will speak to me.
And if you listen wholeheartedly
He will speak to you.
In the core of your being.
I believe that.
That is when the words jump of the page in my Bible.
And that is when He is speaking to me
through birds, butterflies, stars, flowers, my kids . . .
on the pages of my journal and through paint and pictures . . .
{like August and the bees}.
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That passage reminds me of this:
For since the creation of the world
His invisible attributes are clearly seen,
being understood by the things that are made,
even His eternal power and Godhead,
so that they are without excuse.
Romans 1:20
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