As I was washing my hands at the kitchen sink I saw a moth hanging on the outside of the window in front of me. He had a robust, fuzzy chest, perfect, symmetric legs and wings with serrated back edges. He was gray and silent, but so beautiful.
Then I thought, he probably has no idea how beautiful I think he is. He probably feels like a sweaty confused mess scavenging for his next meal. kinda like I do sometimes.
And then I thought, what if God thinks we are beautiful. And I started to believe that maybe we were created not to enjoy ourselves but instead to be enjoyed and be seen as beautiful by the one quietly looking on.