When I was a teenager, we sang a song in youth group called “Blue Skies and Rainbows,” written by Gary Mabry. Decades have passed, but I still remember every word.

These days, I don’t sing it with a youth group. My usual audience consists of Mr. William and Miss Georgia, my Amazon parrots, and Ringo, my Indian ringneck. Sometimes they listen, and sometimes they sing the words along with me.

Recently, while looking through photographs I have taken over the years, I realized how much the subjects of my pictures have in common with the lyrics of that song.

The first verse begins:

“Blue skies and rainbows and sunbeams from heaven…”

My photographs are filled with blue skies and interesting clouds. I have captured sunrises glowing over the hills and sunsets spreading color across the horizon. Whenever a rainbow appears, I reach for my camera.

No photograph can fully capture what it feels like to stand beneath a magnificent sky, but I still want to preserve the moment. The colors, the light, and the vastness of it all remind me of God’s glory and power.

The second verse begins:

“Green grass and flowers, all blooming in springtime…”

Flowers are another frequent subject of my photographs. I notice the first blossoms of spring, morning glories opening in the early light, roses in bloom, and wildflowers growing in unexpected places.

I photograph trees, too—especially when their leaves are an interesting shape or color. I am drawn to the fresh green of spring and summer, the brilliant shades of autumn, and even branches covered in sparkling ice during the winter.

The beauty of creation changes with each season, but there is always something worth noticing.

The third verse begins:

“Tall mountains, green valleys, the beauty that surrounds me…”

Mountains are my happy place. Whether they rise clearly against a bright sky or disappear into clouds and mist, they fill me with a sense of peace and wonder.

I also photograph valleys, streams, rivers, lakes, and the wooded hills of the Missouri Ozarks. Sometimes it is a grand landscape that catches my attention. Other times, it is something small: sunlight shining through leaves, a bird resting on a branch, or a flower growing beside a path.

My family and pets appear throughout my collection as well. I photograph them because they are part of the beauty that surrounds me. In truth, I photograph almost anything that strikes me as lovely, meaningful, or worth remembering in the moment I see it.

The fourth verse begins:

“I’m not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus…”

That declaration may explain more about me than all the images in my photo collection combined.

I hope my faith is evident in the inspirational posts I share and in the stories I write. It is not something separate from the rest of my life or something I occasionally add to my work. My faith shapes the way I see the world, the stories I tell, and the hope I want to offer through them.

When I photograph a sunrise, I see more than the beginning of another day. When I look at mountains, flowers, rainbows, or a sky filled with light, I see evidence of the imagination and majesty of the One who created them.

Life is not always as bright as a blue sky. I have experienced storms, grief, uncertainty, and seasons when beauty was harder to recognize. Yet God’s creation has often reminded me that He is still present.

The sun continues to rise.

Flowers push their way through the soil.

Rainbows sometimes appear after the storm.

Mountains remain steady on the horizon.

Perhaps I photograph these things so often because I am not merely collecting pretty pictures. I am recording reminders of God’s glory, power, faithfulness, and majesty.

Maybe I remember every word of “Blue Skies and Rainbows” because the song reflects who I am. Its images resemble the things that have always captured my attention, and its message expresses the faith that has guided my life.

Blue skies and rainbows.

Green grass and flowers.

Tall mountains and green valleys.

The Gospel of Jesus.

In many ways, those words have become the pattern of my life—a pattern of noticing beauty, recognizing God’s hand in it, and refusing to be ashamed of the faith that lives in my heart.

And sometimes, that pattern includes three feathered companions singing the words along with me.