Catching Fireflies

O LORD, you have searched me and known me!

During one week in late spring or early summer each year, a phenomenon happens below the treetops in the Great Smoky Mountains. Around the middle of May or June, after the sun goes down and the woods are hushed and shadowy, thousands of fireflies light up synchronously, like neon paint splattered between the trees. In order to actually see this glorious sight, you first have to win a lottery to receive entrance into the site. One year, Greg and I were fortunate enough to witness it in person.

If you manage to get a ticket, you park at a designated area on your slotted date, ride on a bus filled with strangers, hike a short trail into the heart of the mountains, and then wait for hours until the sun swaps places with the moon and you are surrounded by a cloak of darkness.

Then you pay careful attention, straining your eyes in the dark to spot a flash of light—even the smallest twinkle—hoping not to miss it. Then right before your eyes, tangled between bark and leafy branches, tiny glowing beetles light up together and then go dark. Light up, go dark—over and over.^a

When I witnessed the synchronous fireflies, I held my breath, not wanting the moment to end. The bystanders stood crowded around us, hushed in collective awe. Oohs and aahs escaped our mouths. It’s almost impossible to capture the beauty of the moment with a camera. Only an experienced photographer with a slow shutter can document this once-a-year miracle—you have to be there to truly grasp the wonder of it.

As captivating as this luminescent dance is, Psalm 139 records an even more captivating reality: the intimacy and nearness of God. David begins his prayer by recognizing that God knows every detail of his life and notices his sitting, standing, lying, and rising. He acknowledges God’s sovereignty and his foreknowledge of the words that spill from his tongue. Suddenly, David is overcome with awe, and he confesses, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.”

As David ponders God’s nearness and knowledge, he is completely overwhelmed, amazed to the marrow of his bones. He realizes he could spend his entire life trying to grasp God’s sovereignty and never come close, but he would try nonetheless. David knows that even if darkness covered him, the light of God’s presence would still burst through the dark.

I once heard a missionary pose this question: “Are you watching for God? He’s there.” The same God who causes fireflies to light up simultaneously once a year in the Smokies is the same God who knows you intimately. He is with you when you sing at the top of your lungs on your commute to work. He knows how many hairs glide through the bristles of your brush. He sees you dab tears from your eyes after reading a moving story. He knows the thoughts that keep you awake at night, the words that slip from your tongue, the dreams that stir in your heart.

You don’t have to go to a special place to see his movement or stand in awe of his majesty; you simply need to open his Word and look around you. Fix your mind on the wonderful, inconceivable thoughts of God, who pierces the darkness with the light of his Word, like fireflies lighting up the night.

Word before World The Light of the World illuminates the darkness of our world and our hearts.

Grow in Grace Read Psalm 139:1-12 slowly, sifting each word through your mind. Turn these words into a personal prayer to God. Then go about your life and watch for God—he’s there with you, even in the darkness of the night.