God said, “Don’t come any closer. Remove your sandals from your feet. You’re standing on holy ground.” (Exodus 3:5 MSG)
Our gps signal wavered in and out on the ride up to Warwick, New York. What should have taken an hour and a half took almost 3. Still, the last 30 minutes was all God glory. By the time we reached our destination we’d been cleansed and stripped. A brilliant sun broke through the veil and fields of buckwheat brushed us new…erased anything keeping us from His presence. In the last 30 minutes we took off our shoes.
And smiled.
His presence pierced our little family bubble and we felt it. This…was holy ground.
Stop.
Pause, breathe.
Enjoy the stillness
Because it’s quiet here
This…is holy ground
Everything IS – as it should be
Human arms can’t hold the paradox of this holy place
So just Let. Go.
It’s wild and perfect, groomed and broken
Listen
His words poured holy, painted on the door of hearts stained a blood bought red.
Now ready, now ripe for the reading of natures’ sacred text.
This…is holy ground.
Sometimes to survive in the city, I leave. Intentional time away helps me see and carefully turn every stone. Time away repairs tears from unexpressed hurts and helps smooth over our family mess ups. The too quick response, the hurried hug, the many ways we tell each other we don’t have time. To hear. To listen. So yesterday we packed our car, grabbed my mama and took a drive. We went apple picking, drank hot cider, walked long and unrushed through lush orchards. And we ate the most delicious apple cider donuts. Taking time to be together outside our usual grind is holy. A little country does a city girl soul good.



