While we’re on the subject of all the things dying lately, I had a small loss of my own this weekend—some of my pet fish passed on to their porcelain heaven. I’m not down about it, but I am a bit bummed to say that I’m down to three fish when I started with ten. But my fish led good long lives, and I didn’t kill them within five minutes of bringing them home, so it was a small triumph for me.

I have to admit that I used to think of fish as boring pets. You can’t cuddle with them or dress them in little pet clothes or give them cute treats. (There’s nothing cute about freeze-dried shrimp pellets.) If they had some brain power, they might understand that I tried to give them a rich environment by rearranging their plastic plants. The closest I get to my fish acknowledging my presence is when they swarm to the top because they’re conditioned to know that when the lid opens food comes down.

But despite their simplicity, I’ve come to think my fish are absolutely amazing. When I look at them, I can’t help but see little wind-up worship machines—because Romans 1:20 says that all things were created to reveal God’s divine nature and eternal power. I poke fun at them because they seem simple to me, but in reality a fish is extremely complex. Even though I have a college degree, I can’t say that I would ever be capable of making a living and breathing fish from scratch no matter how smart I get.

God is amazing, and he’s glorified in the littlest things—amoeba, bacteria, leaves, flower petals, rain drops, dirt, insects—everything. Little everyday things are singing praises to the Lord in their very existence, and sometimes the most seemingly simple things are gloriously assembled by an infinitely creative creator. Do you see it?