The birds chirped softly, the cicadas hummed endlessly, and I sat sipping my coffee slowly, mesmerized by this miniature world that is always around me but I rarely take time to revel in.

The dewdrops showed off in the warm sun’s rays like thousands of crystals shimmering across an ocean of green, blissfully unaware of their imminent demise.

A spider had woven her web across the lawn, and I watched as a dragonfly darted between blades of grass and the silky threads, stopping here and there to take a drink from a dewdrop. 

At my feet, an ant hill thrummed with activity. A line of busy workers was already heading out for their workday, not caring that it was the weekend, a time of rest. 

I thanked God for this moment, this opportunity to gaze on his creation — to imagine what this world looks like from its inhabitants’ perspective and enjoy its intricacies.

If he put this much care into this backyard world, how much more has he put into mine? This God who makes dewdrops shine like jewels and dragonflies dance like ballerinas can certainly fill my life with beauty as well. And he has, when I stop to notice it.