The Burning Bush

The text says he turned aside to see.

Not: the bush blinded him and left him no choice. Not: the fire was so enormous it filled his whole vision.

He turned aside to see.

And God spoke to the man who noticed.

This undoes me every time.

How many burning bushes have I walked past because I was going somewhere, because I was busy, because the extraordinary looked small enough to miss if you were not paying attention?

Holiness hides in the ordinary. God speaks in the small fire, the quiet whisper, the unremarkable Wednesday morning where nothing seems to be happening and everything is.

Turn aside. Take off your shoes. The ground beneath your feet is holy if you will only look.