After a couple of overcast days, yesterday’s morning walk was bathed in sunshine. This allowed me to experience anew the phenomenon of “diamonds in the grass.”

I first heard this phrase while I was participating in a Doctor of Ministry seminar taught by Dallas Willard. “Spirituality and Ministry” was a two-week intensive course of study that was conducted at a Catholic retreat center nestled in the foothills above Sierra Madre, California. Sharing the center with us Fuller Seminary D. Min. students for part of those two weeks was a group of nuns from a neighboring parish. One afternoon I overheard a nun speaking to a staff member of the center. When she discovered that he was the groundskeeper she said, “Oh, you’re the one we have to thank for the diamonds in the grass!”

Early the next day I went out for a walk and observed for myself what she had been referring to. When the bright morning sun shone upon the center’s recently watered lawns, the droplets of water on each blade of grass glistened like sparkling diamonds.

Eventually the course concluded and I returned to my home, but the image of those diamonds in the grass stuck with me. While out for a walk one morning I realized that the phenomenon could be experienced here too. The bright morning sun shining on the freshly watered, long-bladed grass-like plants located in my neighborhood’s greenbelt glisten just like the diamonds portrayed in the Snow White ride at Disneyland. (Remember those scenes?)

Obviously, whenever this occurs I think of that nun and her expression of gratitude to the retreat center’s groundskeeper. That’s a good lesson right there: the need to let people around us know that we appreciate what they do. But beyond that, I’ve learned to allow this sight to serve as a cue for me to express afresh my gratitude to a good God who put so much beauty into the world, and then gave us human beings the capacity to appreciate it. When I’m at my best, witnessing the simple beauty of nature will lead me into moments of worshipful intimacy with its beneficent creator.

I hope that everyone reading these words will have the opportunity sometime soon to observe for themselves the phenomenon of diamonds in the grass. Then again, the phenomenon need not require a special time and place. We can see the “diamonds” that remind us of God’s goodness just about anywhere—from the twinkling of the stars at night, to the twinkle of light we observe in the eyes of the people we love. The question is: How will we respond to this beauty? Will we develop the habit of allowing these “diamond” sightings to result in special moments of intimacy with God?

Something to think about.