Colton took these pictures through his new microscope. He just put the camera up to the microscope lens and started snapping. They aren’t the best pictures, but it was a fun thing to try.

This is a maple bug, or what is sometimes referred to in these here parts as a Hallowe’en bug. Because he’s black and red and appears in October. These guys are everywhere in the fall. Now that it is colder, they’ve mostly disappeared, but I still find the odd guy wandering around my kitchen, wondering, I suppose, where all his buddies went.

While the photographs don’t do it justice, the maple bug is fantastic  when magnified. It’s eyes are round and red and divided into tiny sections. The hairs on its body seem barbed. Its, well, creepy and fascinating at the same time.

I’ve been reading the blog of a psychology prof from my alma mater, Abilene Christian University. I wish this guy had been around when I was a student. I think I would love to sit in his classroom. His name is Richard Beck and he posted the other day on having a small God. Something I’d been thinking about lately. The power of small. Or, maybe, the influence of small. Or, the significance of the insignificant.

Because really, do we need so much big. I mean, I know that God is big. He’s awesome and huge and I know that I am just a miniscule part of his amazing, vast creation. But, isn’t he also small, and isn’t that just as powerful and amazing?

His son, part of himself, entered the world as a babe. Babies are small. And when he grew up, he had a pretty small ministry. I’m not saying it wasn’t powerful and world-changing and prophecy-fulfilling. It was all of that. But it was also small. He had a few friends. No budget. He fed people and talked to them and when their loved ones were sick, he made them better. He told people about his father. He cared. And then, he died. He allowed his death to happen.

And then he went back home and, because of that time spent on earth he was able to share how life is for us with his father. Who, it seems, could now relate to us in a different way that he could before. Because of the experiences of his son while he was with us.

I have a pretty small life. I have a few friends, and a pretty limited budget. I am not a somebody, but I am not a nobody, either. I can feed people and talk to them and try to make them feel better. I can tell them about the Father. I can care.

Friends, small is not the same as insignificant.