Skip to content

Category: The Collector

🍂 Throwback Tuesday 🍂

Today I’m sharing a favorite from the archives:

Narrative Nook Monday: God’s Design in Nature: Unveiling the Golden Ratio

When I wrote this post, I was captivated by the incredible patterns God has woven throughout His creation. From the spirals of seashells to the arrangement of sunflower seeds, the golden ratio is a beautiful reminder that our world wasn’t created by accident. Everywhere we look, we can see evidence of a Creator who delights in beauty, order, and purpose.

I still smile when I think about the postscript I included. I’ve never been what anyone would call a math person (I started struggling with math way back in second grade!), but I’m married to someone who has always loved the language of mathematics. Through his enthusiasm, I’ve learned to appreciate some of the wonder hidden in numbers and patterns.

Revisiting this post feels especially meaningful right now because I’m also nearing the finish line on The Collector. After spending so much time with these characters and their story, it’s hard to believe I’m almost done. There have been moments of excitement, moments of frustration, and plenty of prayer along the way, but I’m grateful for the journey and eager to see where God leads next.

Sometimes I think writing a book is a little like discovering those beautiful patterns in nature. You don’t always see the design while you’re in the middle of it, but eventually the pieces begin to come together and reveal something bigger than you imagined.

If you’d like to take a walk down memory lane with me, I’d love for you to revisit this post and share something in creation that points you to God’s handiwork.

Blessings, S. M. Ulbrich ❤️

#ThrowbackTuesday #NarrativeNookMonday #GodsDesign #ChristianAuthor #FaithAndWriting #TheCollector #AmWriting


The golden ratio is a testimony to God’s perfect design.

Have you ever marveled at the effortless elegance of a nautilus shell spiraling into the sea, or the way sunflower seeds pack themselves into a perfect, hypnotic pattern? These aren’t random accidents of evolution—they’re whispers of divine precision, etched into the fabric of creation. At the heart of it all lies the golden ratio, a mathematical marvel that serves as profound testimony to God’s perfect design. It’s not just numbers on a page; it’s the signature of the Creator, woven through the beauty of the natural world.

Nature by Numbers: 

What Exactly Is the Golden Ratio?

Picture this: a harmonious dance between two proportions, where the whole relates to the larger part exactly as that larger part relates to the smaller one. Numerically, this “divine proportion” clocks in at approximately 1:1.618 (often denoted by the Greek letter φ, or phi). It’s the secret behind that feeling of “just right” we get from art, architecture, and yes, the wonders of nature.

One of the most intuitive ways to visualize it is through a series of expanding squares. Start simple: Draw two squares, each with sides measuring 1 unit. Now, add a third square whose side equals the sum of the previous two—2 units. Keep going: the next square’s side is 3 units (2 + 1), then 5 units (3 + 2), 8 units (5 + 3), and so on. As you arrange these squares into a quarter-turn spiral, something magical emerges—a graceful, self-similar curve that echoes infinitely, pulling your eye outward in perfect balance.

Here’s something fun: 

The Fibonacci Connection: Nature’s Building Blocks

This square-building exercise isn’t arbitrary; it’s deeply intertwined with the Fibonacci sequence, one of math’s most elegant patterns. Named after the 13th-century Italian mathematician Leonardo Fibonacci, the sequence begins with 0 and 1 (or simply 1 and 1, depending on your starting point), and each subsequent number is the sum of the two before it: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34…

As the numbers grow, their ratios approach the golden ratio—divide 21 by 13, and you’re at about 1.615; 34 by 21 gets even closer to 1.618. In that spiral of squares, the curve traces the Fibonacci path, creating a vortex that feels alive, almost breathing. It’s no wonder this pattern repeats across God’s canvas: from the tight coils of a fern frond to the branching of tree limbs, the arrangement of pinecones, and even the spirals in galaxies far beyond our reach.

Echoes in the Everyday: Where You’ll Spot It

Step outside, and the golden ratio is everywhere, a quiet hymn to intentionality. Gaze at a pinecone, and you’ll see those Fibonacci scales fanning out in golden spirals. Slice open a pineapple or examine a honeycomb, and the hexagons align with near-perfect phi proportions. In the human body—fearfully and wonderfully made, as Psalm 139 reminds us—the ratio appears in the proportions of our fingers, the curve of our DNA helix, and even the layout of our faces.

Artists and architects have chased this harmony for millennia: think of the Parthenon’s facade or Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. But it’s in nature where the awe deepens—proof that the same hand that flung stars into space crafted the delicate spiral of a seashell to shelter life.

The Golden Ratio: is it myth or math?

A Divine Invitation to Wonder

In a world that often reduces beauty to chance, the golden ratio stands as a beacon:This was designed with love.It’s God’s way of saying, “Look closer—I’m in the details.” As Romans 1:20 declares, His invisible qualities are clearly seen in what has been made. Next time you trace the curve of a leaf or the arc of a wave, pause and give thanks. What golden threads of design have you noticed in your own corner of creation? Share in the comments—I’d love to hear!

For more on faith, science, and the wonders of the world, subscribe below. And if you’re craving visuals, search up “Fibonacci spiral in nature” for some breathtaking images to fuel your reflection.

~ S. M. Ulbrich

(Inspired by the elegance of creation and the timeless wisdom of Scripture.)

P.S. I am not a mathematician. In fact, I started failing math in second grade! But I’m married to a guy who has loved the language of maths his whole life. He occasionally shares his knowledge with high school students, and others. He even tutored for a time and regularly had experienced praise and appreciation for his skills. For example, an attorney whose son was having difficulty with math, later thanked him and told him that because of what he’d learned in watching the lessons, he’s decided to quit the law business and teach high schoolers!

Leave a Comment

Blast from the Past: You Might Be a Writer If… (And You Might Be Reading The Collector)

Every now and then, it’s fun to look back at the posts that first connected us as writers, readers, dreamers, and storytellers. As our blog continues to grow beyond that exciting milestone of 500 visitors, I found myself revisiting an old favorite: “You Might Be a Writer If…”

When I first wrote that post, I reflected on the habits, quirks, and passions that seem to unite writers everywhere. Looking back, I realize those same qualities have followed me through every project, from Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast to George and the Brave Eagle, and now into my newest work, The Collector.

So, let’s take another look.

You See Stories Everywhere

Writers don’t simply observe the world. They imagine what lies beneath the surface.

A quiet beach can become a magical kingdom. An eagle soaring overhead can become a symbol of courage and determination. And sometimes a simple object, forgotten by most people, can become the centerpiece of an entirely new adventure.

That spirit of curiosity helped inspire The Collector. What begins as an ordinary discovery can quickly lead to extraordinary questions, reminding us that stories are often hiding in plain sight.

You Never Stop Asking “What If?”

What if mermaids lived along the Emerald Coast?

What if a brave eagle taught valuable lessons about courage?

And now, what if someone discovered something so unusual that it changed the way they viewed the world around them?

Writers thrive on “what if.” It is the question that opens every doorway to imagination and invites readers to step through alongside us.

You Fall in Love with Characters

One of the greatest joys of writing is creating characters who begin to feel like family.

Misty’s determination, George’s bravery, and the personalities taking shape within The Collector all started as ideas. Over time, they grew into companions who taught me lessons of their own.

Writers know this feeling. Characters stop becoming words on a page and start becoming voices in your heart.

You Daydream Without Apology

If you’ve ever stared out a window and lost yourself in a story, welcome to the club.

Writers spend a lot of time in two worlds at once. There’s the everyday world where dishes need washing and errands need running. Then there’s the story world where adventures unfold, mysteries deepen, and possibilities seem endless.

Many of the ideas behind The Collector arrived during those quiet moments when imagination took the lead.

You Keep Going, Even When It Isn’t Easy

Writing is rewarding, but it’s rarely simple.

There are moments of doubt, rejected drafts, editing headaches, and days when inspiration seems to hide. Yet writers continue because storytelling is more than a hobby. It’s a calling.

Every book I’ve written has required persistence, patience, and faith. The Collector was no different. Each challenge became another opportunity to refine the story and make it stronger.

You Hope Your Words Matter

Perhaps the biggest sign that you’re a writer is this: you want your words to make a difference.

Whether through the friendship and adventure found in Discovering Misty, the courage demonstrated in George and the Brave Eagle, or the themes explored in The Collector, my hope has always been to create stories that encourage, inspire, and spark imagination.

Stories have the power to bring people together. They help us see through someone else’s eyes, discover new perspectives, and find hope when we need it most.

Looking Back and Moving Forward

Revisiting You Might Be a Writer If… reminds me how much this journey has grown and how grateful I am for every reader who has come along for the ride.

The signs of being a writer haven’t changed. We still collect ideas, chase inspiration, daydream endlessly, and obsess over the right words. But each new story adds another chapter to the journey.

As we celebrate the past and look toward the future, I’m excited to share The Collector with readers and continue creating stories that spark wonder, curiosity, and hope.

So let me ask you:

Do you see stories everywhere?

Do you daydream about characters and adventures?

Do you carry a notebook just in case inspiration strikes?

If so, you just might be a writer.

And if you’re not a writer, perhaps you’re exactly who writers create stories for.

Thank you for being part of this journey. Here’s to the next adventure, and to the magic waiting to be discovered in The Collector.

1 Comment

A New Novel Is Quietly Taking Shape

I’ve spent the past several months living inside a building that doesn’t exist.

At least not the way I’m writing it.

It’s an apartment building in Cincinnati, populated by bricklayers, widows, schoolteachers, bakers, artists, maintenance workers, immigrants, flood survivors, and countless ordinary people whose names never appeared in history books.

And yet, the more time I spend with them, the more convinced I become that their stories matter.

Perhaps even more than the famous ones.

The novel I’m currently working on is called The Collector.

At its heart, it asks a simple question:

What survives after we’re gone?

A photograph?

A letter?

A favorite recipe?

A journal?

A building that remembers the people who once lived inside it?

As I’ve written, I’ve been surprised by how often the story returns to the same idea:

Most people believe their lives are ordinary.

But ordinary does not mean unimportant.

In fact, the people history forgets may be the very people worth remembering most.

I’m not ready to share many details yet.

The mysteries are still unfolding.

But I can tell you this:

The story begins with a young immigrant bricklayer in the 1850s and stretches across generations of lives connected by a single Cincinnati apartment building.

And somewhere within those walls lives a question that refuses to go away:

Who remembers the people no one else remembers?

More soon.

For now, I’m heading back into the past.

The characters are waiting.

Leave a Comment