I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place. – Psalm 8:3 (NIV)

My husband and I spent the day before Father’s Day on Glendale Lake in beautiful west-central Pennsylvania. Our youngest son, David, rented a pontoon boat for the day as a Father’s Day gift for his dad so the two of them could spend the day fishing. They went last year, and this year, David asked me to come along.

Now, I don’t fish. I don’t even eat fish. But the opportunity to spend the day on a boat relaxing and enjoying nature was something I didn’t want to pass up.

We packed up for the day, and for once I didn’t lug my laptop along, even though I was way behind on my novel writing schedule. I did, however, pack my Kindle. I have library of books on that thing, and I planned to spend the day reading, relaxing, and recharging.

I didn’t read as much as I thought I would, though. Instead I lounged under the canopy, out of the sun, and simply enjoyed the scenery and being a part of a perfect summer day.

Only an occasional wispy cloud floated across the summer blue sky. No heat, no haze, no humidity marred this crisp, clear day, a day when you can see forever.

A summer breeze breathed across the lake and caressed our faces. Sunlight sparkling on the water resembled drops of dancing diamonds. Lush green branches of the surrounding forest hugged the shoreline and painted the waters. Dragonflies buzzed the surface of the lake in search of a meal.

My body leaned with the sway of the boat as it rose and dipped with the wake of passing craft, lulling my eyes to close. The silence was broken only by the buzz of an occasional jon boat puttering by, the lap of the lake slapping the pontoons, the whirring of a fishing rod cast through the air.

It was a day when you don’t keep track of the time because you never want it to end.

As the evening sun crept closer to the tree-lined horizon and we headed in, I turned to face the back of the boat and drank in the view one more time. Closing my eyes and inhaling the sweet scents of the lake, I thanked God—for the day, for His beautiful creation.

My body, mind, and spirit were refreshed, renewed, and recharged.

In all nature—from dawn’s soft sky to a vibrant sunset, from storm clouds rolling in to puffy, white clouds that take the shape of whatever your mind’s eye sees, from a million stars twinkling against an infinite canvas to the cloud shadows that float across a verdant field, from the wildflower to the maple tree to the stately pine—I see the fingerprints of their Creator.

A church building is not the only place you can worship God. Just go outside and you’ll enter His sanctuary.

See Him in the trees dancing with the wind, hear Him in the hum of a hummingbird’s wings, inhale His sweet fragrance with the scent of freshly mown grass, taste Him with each drop of rain, feel His embrace wrap around you in the warm breeze.

And know, dear one, that He created all this just for you.

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. – Psalm 19:1

Thank you, Father, for this world You created. Help me to take time to savor it. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Psalm 19