Holy Ground Moments

Well now, friend, I see you found your way back under this pecan tree right here beside this ol’ front porch, and I’m mighty glad you did. Go on and settle yourself in that lawn chair because we’re about to stroll right into one of the most jaw‑droppin’ moments in Scripture. Exodus 3:4 says that when the Lord saw Moses turn aside to look, God called out from the middle of that bush, “Moses, Moses,” and Moses answered, “Here am I.” That there verse matters because it shows us something deep. God didn’t speak until Moses turned. God waited for Moses to notice. And when Moses did, God called him by name. That’s not just holy ground. That’s sho’-nuff’ holy invitation.

Now Moses wasn’t exactly smellin’ like a Sunday morning choir either. He was out there tendin’ sheep that looked like they’d rolled in every questionable thing the wilderness had to offer. He was a man with a past, a man who’d run from trouble, a man who felt more like a bewildered ol’ barnyard critter than a leader. Yet, God called his name. Twice. Friend, when God repeats Himself, He’s plum fixin’ to do somethin’ a whole lot bigger than a fiery bush that burns without burnin’ up.

God introduced Himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. That there wasn’t just a heavenly attendance sheet. It was God sayin’, “I had a personal relationship with each one of ‘em, and I want one with you, too.” Abraham had his own encounter with God. Isaac made his own choice. Jacob wrestled until he found his faith. None of ‘em inherited God like a hand‑me‑down quilt. They plum met Him personally, the way a curious ol’ raccoon meets up with a trash can. Up close. Unexpected. Life changin’.

And Moses had to decide if he’d step toward God or stay plum stuck in the shadows of his past. God didn’t shove him. God invited him. And, friend, He invites you, too. Your parents’ faith ain’t your faith. Your grandmother’s prayers ain’t your prayers. God wants to be the God of you, the One who calls your name, the One who meets you in your wilderness moments, the One who turns ordinary dirt into holy ground.

Father, thank You for callin’ my name even when my life feels messy. Help me seek You with all my heart. Teach me to choose You intentionally and walk in the covenant You offer. Make my ordinary places holy because You are there. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Ok now, friend, as you mosey on back into the wide pasture of your day, carry this notion with you that God ain’t  rattled by your past, and He sho’-nuff’ ain’t a bit confused by your detours. He ain’t waitin’ for you to shine like a show pony at the county fair either. He meets you right where you stand, even if you feel like a little woodland critter that wandered off the trail. And when you turn aside and git to noticin’ Him, just like Moses did, you might find that the very ground beneath your feet has become real holy because God Himself has stepped right into your story.

With joy,

Gwen