I forgot to switch over the laundry again, which means I’m now re-running yesterday’s load. I also don’t know what’s for dinner, because last week I was a crunchy mom. This week, I’m an in-the-middle mom, and I don’t like the meal plan last week’s me thought sounded good. I’m also busy, and takeout sounds downright appealing. 

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I thought trading spilled juice and play dates for the teen years would somehow slow things down, and I’d have this figured out. As it turns out, it’s just a different season of busy. Now, it’s iced coffee instead of juice, and play dates have become sporting events or theater rehearsals where I’m the unpaid uber driver cheering in the stands (or clapping in the “house” as my theater daughter reminds me). 

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There’s a pull in me to do more, to be more, to make my home and meals more Pinterest worthy. It’s the Instagram-fueled belief that making things appear perfect is the key to somehow creating an environment that reflects holiness. Instead, the striving pulls my heart away from worship, and from honoring the here and now God has given me as worthy, holy work. 

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The older I become, the more I’m drawn to the simple and realistic parts of life. I’m more comfortable with things not being perfect and knowing that God uses different personalities in different ways. The “training ground” He gives me might look a little different than it looks for someone else, but this is where He placed me, and it matters. To be honest, there have been times I’ve struggled with how much the mundane matters, especially since shelving my career three years ago, but every season serves its purpose. 

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When Moses was out tending the flock in the wilderness, I wonder if he felt the friction between the mundane of wilderness life versus the grandeur of palace life in Egypt. To be clear, Moses’ own actions put him in the wilderness, yet even still, God used his circumstances (Acts 7:23-29, Ex. 3:10). Those years weren’t wasted. They allowed Moses to know the voice of God.   

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This is all speculation, but maybe God allowed Moses to experience life in the wilderness long enough for him to become the kind of man who noticed a burning bush. In the glitz and glamor of Egypt, he might not have noticed something like fire. He would’ve been surrounded by so much activity, sights, and sounds, that maybe he would’ve overlooked the burning bush. Maybe in Egypt, the burning bush would’ve gotten confused with the pagan practices of the Egyptians. Instead, the wilderness taught Moses something he’d need when he faced Pharaoh and his magicians just a few chapters later (Ex. 7:8-13). 

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The Moses we meet tending flocks in the wilderness was a man who noticed. Exodus 3:3-4 says he saw something out of the ordinary and went closer to investigate. When God spoke to him, Moses listened and drew near. When God told him to remove his sandals because he was “standing on holy ground,” he obeyed without hesitation (Ex. 3:5). 

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After years in the desert, Moses was ready to hear God, even if God still had some work to do in him. It had been so long since he left Egypt that I wouldn’t be surprised if Moses thought God wasn’t paying attention, but after all those years, the Lord told him: 

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“I have certainly seen the oppression of my people in Egypt. I have heard their cries of distress because of their harsh slave drivers. Yes, I am aware of their suffering. So, I have come down to rescue them from the power of the Egyptians and lead them out of Egypt into their own fertile and spacious land” (Ex. 3:7-8 NLT, emphasis added).

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God tells Moses four things: I have seen. I have heard. I am aware. I have come. 

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Moses sees God had a plan all along, and that plan involved this new version of a wilderness-shaped Moses (Ex. 3:10). Those years weren’t wasted. They were a training ground for God’s call on his life.

What made the moment at the burning bush holy had nothing to do with the ground or the bush. It had everything to do with the presence of God. That means, when you invite Jesus in, He makes ordinary moments holy for you, too. When that happens, the ordinary can be transformed into moments of worship right where you are. 

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Maybe in this season of life, holy ground looks a lot like faithfully folding the laundry, feeding your family, or having heart-to-heart conversations with your kids on the way to and from practice. Maybe it’s in the way you engage with your coworkers or tangibly act as the hands and feet of Jesus to a world that doesn’t know Him. 

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Worship begins when we recognize God’s presence with us as we move through our daily lives. It has nothing to do with our striving for perfection, and everything to do with the way He restores each moment to Himself. Holy ground is under your own two feet, right smack in the middle of your ordinary. 

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Maybe today, you can take some time to reflect on the ways God shows you what He showed Moses – He sees you, hears you, is aware of you, and comes to meet you where you are right now. If you’re in a wilderness season, let that comfort you and lead you into a place of worship today.