Hymn of the Muna Beetle
Every night at twilight for the last month you could hear it, the droning hymn. The steady hum of a beehive and the crackle of electricity all rolled into one deep thrum. It sizzled from every tree and buzzed from the moment the sun began to think about laying down for the night, until he covered his shining head in a mantle of deep black. I hadn’t heard it before, or at least I didn’t remember it, and it puzzled me until I started to pay attention. It wasn’t a beehive or an electrical current. Instead, it was the steady, rhythmic thrum of the hard-sided, armored wings of a beetle called the muna beetle*. It’s a brown beetle about the length of your thumb, chubby and winged, and apparently tasty. And, as I asked my friends about it, they really only come around during this time of year.
It made me think, this hymn of the muna beetle, about rhythms and seasons. A friend and I were talking the other day about how, when we first arrived here, we tried to make sense of the seasons in this new place. She remembered another new arrival to the country very stubbornly asserting North American seasons as they marched across the calendar back "home". But my friend said that she felt that trying to hold onto the old seasons was so incongruous. It seemed to undervalue the beauty of the seasons here and it kept her from planting her heart and her life here. I’ve come to realize that too, as I watch the changing of the seasons here, so very different from my origin country. Here the seasons are marked by rain, or certain fruits and flowers, or even beetles. This country is unique and has distinct rhythms that set it apart from other places.
My heart and mind were pulled toward the fact that God sets seasons and days and times in place and he uses the natural world to remind us of that. Psalm 74:17 says that God has fixed the boundaries of the earth and that He’s made the seasons. Acts 17:26 points out that God marked out their appointed history and the boundaries of their lands and that he does these things to draw us to himself. I was reminded that God points me to himself, to his ways, to his character, when I see the ebb and flow of seasons. I’m reminded that he also holds the boundaries of my days and times and seasons in life as well. Just as sure as the sun rises and sets, or winter and summer come, or rainy season and dry season sweep in, or muna beetles come back to the trees, God faithfully holds my days and times and uses my life to draw others, to point others, to Him and His incredibly good plan.
So, every time I hear the hymn of the muna beetles, I’ll remember that God sets the seasons and that I can trust that his unfailing love will never change.
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