A sliver of trees. Barely enough to be called a forest preserve. But big enough that it stands out from the cement and asphalt landscape you see peering out the windows of your train chugging toward Chicago.

Because God has wired me to worship Him through His creation, I raise a hand and praise Him silently for the trees every time we roll by the splendor of this green scene. God must like it because He seems to jog my attention whenever I'm on the train and about to miss His handiwork.

On a recent ride, I gazed into that familiar forest, lifted my hand in praise—and saw something I didn’t think you would ever see in a copse of trees just a few miles from Chicago. One deer and then another emerged from the gray grime of not-yet-spring. The pair strutted about as if they were in a country field.

My jaw dropped—but I was alone. To my knowledge, I was the only person in the train car who saw that sight. Magic came near, but most missed it.

One passenger was sleeping, while another tried to snooze. One stared ahead sightlessly. Another buried himself in a book. An overwhelming majority were held hostage by their phones. Sadly, magic unfolded—but most missed it, seeing only the mundane.

Here’s the thing. God’s world—and yours—are drenched and dripping with His magnificent magic. It’s everywhere! The only question is, do we see these things and praise God for them? Or are they just part of the scenery we don’t see?

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. 

-Ecclesiastes 3:11