Standing on Holy Ground

By Joyful Fox

I lay awake in the inky black thinking of today. Husband breathing softly, I reach under my pillow to turn off alarm...close to 5:00...I sigh softly...aware of the warmth of blankets and silent home. Wouldn't it be nice to burrow here awhile...a long while. These days have been hard.

I'd rather not begin today. I smile to myself and choose to slide out of bed. I take captive, erring thoughts...and remember muted yellows and blues of my journal...the crisp white page awaiting first thoughts of the new morn...afghan of burgundies, rust, and evergreen... beckons from soft leather sofa. The Father's love stirs a longing in my soul. I need this...the first meeting of the day.

Ready now, I scramble into clothes. Fingers fumble as I find the tag, slipping into athletic pants, silently snatching sweatshirt, ever mindful of all who slumber on...cautious now, I creep down the stairs. This time for seeking, listening, meditating, and exploring...far too precious to tarry long.

"Here I am, Lord..."I sound like Moses. Peace settles as His word speaks into anxiety in predawn dark. Sacred silence...hallowed hour...treasured time.

The bush burned yet it was not consumed. So Moses said,"I must turn aside now, and see this marvelous sight, why the bush is not burned up." Exodus 3:3

God called to Moses from the midst of the bush. Moses answered, "Here I am."

God said to Moses, "Do not come near here; remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground." Exodus 3:4-5.

The place on which Moses stood was Holy Ground. God was speaking to Moses. Present with him. I can't imagine how glorious that would be.

I contemplate a while. Christ has come. Immanuel, God with us. Spirit indwelling. I am standing on Holy ground. My Mount Sinai is here...in this home...in this hour...in every hour of every day.

My burning bush is His still small voice, the soft and gentle one...I often miss when I leave the sanctity of this holy hour.

Cleaning toilets, scrubbing floors, trimming tiny fingernails, peeling potatoes, changing diapers...this is Holy ground...the hallowed in the everyday.

I struggle so...to carry His sacred presence into the day.

His voice, soft and gentle...hard to hear when my own voice raises...harsh and severe, over bickering children, crying baby, and squeals echoing off in another direction. Stimulus overload?...Yes, yes.

I am still standing on Holy ground. Oh, me of unclean lips.

Blaze, spirit blaze...set my heart on fire...may it blaze like Moses' burning bush.

The place on which I stand is Holy Ground.

Comments

Angcat said…
Beautiful, just beautiful! I'm so thankful that He meets us in those places, if we will just listen.
What struck me in the scripture you used was that God was protecting Moses (among other things) by telling him not to come close and to take off his sandals. We cannot endure God's holy presence too close. His fire would torch us, so He warns, out of love.."Do not come near here...".
God bless you today with all His glorious riches and His Word to rightly divide.
:-)
8:47 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Voyage

Image
Note from Belinda: I read this prayer yesterday and again today--and then I read it to Susan after cell group, when we were having our "second cup" of decaff coffee together. I knew that she'd love it. She has a framed picture on her office wall of a little blond haired girl in a sail boat on a stormy sea. A fatherly sailor,with a weather beaten face; in a gray sou'wester, holds her close, as he capably mans the tiller. This prayer reminds me of that picture and influenced what I wrote earlier today, when I used the metaphor of ebbing waves to describe a lack of consistency and my desire to crash over the sandbar into the peaceful pool on the other side.  ( Susan sent me a link to the painting, which was done by American impressionist Robert Reid in 1888.  It hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art in NYC.) Be bless ed by the beauty of this prayer. OH LORD OF THE OCEANS, My little bark sails on a restless sea, Grant that Jesus may sit at the ...
Read more

Samson Beaver and his Family

Image
I first posted this in 2009, a little show and tell about one of my favourite photographs. Back then it hung on a wall, but now it's in my bathroom where I see it every morning! I'd forgotten the history behind the story, researched when I first posted this and thought that current readers might enjoy it--a story from a time when this land was still being discovered, not so very long ago. This photograph was taken by Mary Schaffer; artist, photographer, writer and naturalist, in 1907. It is of a Stoney Indian named Samson Beaver, with his wife Leah and daughter, Frances Louise. I bought the photo on a postcard, on a trip to British Columbia and it hangs framed, on the wall I face when sitting at my laptop. I love it. Don't you just feel as if you could gather Frances Louise up in your arms and cuddle her? I get a deep sense of peace and happiness when I look at this family, sitting in the grass of a long ago fall. They are dressed in their best, beautiful c...
Read more

Ere Zij God--Glory to God in the Highest! A Dutch Carol

Image
By Belinda This beautiful Dutch carol was shared today by a friend of Dutch ancestry, on Facebook. I had never heard it before but absolutely loved it. It moved me deeply, especially at the end after the crowd leaves the church and then breaks into spontaneous singing again around a brazier, with the sound of chiming church bells in the background. Listen to it with headphones or a good speaker to get the full effect of the harmonies. And happy first Sunday in Advent!
Read more