Moses was tending the flock of Jethro . . . and he led the flock to the far side of the desert . . . to the mountain of God. Moses was in the rear of the desert, so far back he may have believed there was no way out. He had sojourned in that desert forty years or so, and was accustomed to the place. It was comfortable for him. Maybe he wasn’t even looking for a way out. Life wasn’t so bad there. He spent his days herding sheep. Week after week. Month after month. Alone in the quiet. It was quiet there in the desert, at the foot of the mountain. It was so quiet Moses could hear the faintest whisper of the wind or the slightest stirring of the breeze. It was so quiet he could hear the very voice of God.
I knew a writer once. (Let’s call her Writer One.) She was a young mom, tired but mostly happy. Writer One decided to crawl out of bed a little early, before her three kids woke up, to sit alone in her living room. It was quiet there in the living room. It was so quiet Writer One could hear the smallest creaking of the floor or the gentle breathing of the children. It was so quiet she could hear the very voice of God.
I knew another writer. (Let’s call him Writer Two.) He’d been a writer for a long time. Writer Two found some trails close to his home, where he could walk in the woods. It was quiet there among the trees. It was so quiet Writer Two could hear all the forest sounds. It was so quiet he could hear the very voice of God.
I knew a third writer. (Writer Three.) Her kids were grown, and her secret dream was to write stories. Writer Three worked from her home office. It was quiet there at her desk. It was so quiet Writer Three could hear the humming of the computer and the ticking of the desk clock. It was so quiet she could hear the very voice of God.
Lets think again about Moses at the foot of God’s mountain. In the quiet, God said, Moses, Moses . . . take off your shoes . . .You are on holy ground . . . because I’m here.
God transforms the most unlikely places into holy ground.
Writer One heard the murmur of God in her heart. “I’m here in your living room,” he said. “This is holy ground.” She lay her face down on her carpet with toys and cookie crumbs all around, and soaked in the presence of God.
Writer Two walked a long time through the woods that day. He listened to the birds, the wind, and the water cry out the goodness of God. It became a holy place.
Writer Three sat at her desk completely still in front of the laptop. She didn’t fill the silence with words of supplication, intercession, or even praise and thanksgiving. She simply enjoyed his presence, and let him fill her in a way she hadn’t experienced for years.
In the biblical story, while Moses stood on holy ground, silent in the presence of Almighty God, something unprecedented happened to him. God spoke. I have indeed seen the misery of my people . . . I see their slave drivers . . . I am aware of their suffering . . .So I have come to deliver them to a good and spacious land.
God’s message resonates through the ages. Writers One, Two, and Three have heard it. “I have seen the misery of my people . . . I am aware of their suffering . . . I have seen their slave drivers . . . rejection, loneliness, insecurity, fear. So I have come to deliver them to a good and a spacious land—and you are my mouthpiece.”