Our Unexpected Holy Ground
Whether we see it or not
Hello readers! It’s good to be back with you today. I’m slowly getting my feet under me (depending on the hour) since sweet Zoey was born into our family a month ago! So, here is my human attempt in getting back into the regular routine of our Thursday emails. We’ve recently had a lot of new faces subscribe—if that is you, welcome, I hope you feel known in this weekly space. To all of you—I’m so grateful that you’re here.
Our lives are filled with the ordinary tasks of everyday living. We clean the toilet, lead the meeting, schedule the appointment, brush our hair, feed the dog, water the plants, make our bed, and (you fill in the blank). We wake up and start moving. We catch our breath sometime in the early evening commute. We lay down at night with a huge sigh of exhaustion. Life doesn’t feel shiny or bright most of the time, and it doesn’t feel worthy of journaling about or sharing a posed picture online to mark the day of.
Where are the movements of God in our mundane living?
I wonder what it would be like to look around at the life we are given and see the shimmers of God weaved into the fabric of what our life is—not what it used to be or what we hope it to unfold as. At times I catch myself at the end of the day frustrated that I didn’t look around and try to see God more throughout my day. I moved too fast, talked too much, had my head down plowing through, and didn’t even bother to open my eyes to the glory around me. I wonder if you have ever felt similar? Take a deep breath, weary reader, and rest assured—we aren’t doing anything wrong.
We cannot add or take away from God’s movements in our everyday lives. His love and presence is ever available to us—not matter which direction our eyes are looking.
It’s a really high expectation of ourselves that we always notice and always call out and name the movements of God in our lives. We are human, there is plenty of holiness that we will evidently walk right past, and in contrast, there are gifts that we will experience and name tenderly as holy. No matter what, the holy ground is always present. St. Ignatius of Loyola invites us to view all that we live and work in as an opportunity to experience the love and presence of God.
All the things in this world are gifts of God, created for us, to be the means by which we can come to know him better, love him more surely, and serve him more faithfully.
Here’s where I often get thrown off by my “seeing God in all”. I can peacefully read quotes like this, in the quiet of the early morning before my children rise and need my care. I can feel God’s presence as I hold my cup of hot coffee—His warmth surrounding me as I sit in prayer within His loving gaze. I can look around when I’m outside with my family, gazing at the stars, and know I’m intricately woven and held by the same God who set them in the sky.
But how do I “feel” God’s presence when I’m overwhelmed homeschooling my kids, there’s an argument brewing between siblings in the next room, my toddler just spilled paint water, the baby is crying, and then the dog throws up? Where is God in that? Where is God when I cry silent tears, missing a child that is no longer in my arms? Where is God when your boss didn’t like the pitch you spent countless hours working on? Where is God when you’re gut-punched with the phone call that voices a diagnosis that no one saw coming? Where is God when the stove breaks and you’re already overwhelmed financially?
Pause for a moment.
Inhale deeply.
Exhale fully.
God’s presence cannot be defined, contained, structured, or manufactured. His presence is not conditional on if we feel Him, see Him, or experience Him. It just is. It always has been. It always will be.
This is our real, human life. It is raw. It is messy. It is joyful. It is painful. The beautiful part is that we have a God who knows all of these intimate feelings we experience daily. His love is weaved into the deepest parts of our soul’s longing, and the most mundane parts of living—like brushing our teeth and cleaning out under the couch.
He is present in all.
So as you open your eyes today, dear reader, know that YOU are seen. The creator of the universe knows and intimately loves you—not for anything you do today, but solely just for who you are.
The life you live today is holy ground. It is sacred. It is honoring to Him. It is His kingdom here on earth.
If you can slow down and notice His movements and workings today, great, may you linger in his presence and kindness for you. If you don’t see or feel Him today, know His love is still there—always available and present with you. His invitation to you may be:
Noticing His love surrounding you as you gaze into the flicker of a candle.
Seeing His joy over you in unexpected laughter.
Naming His goodness out loud as you drive to work.
Knowing He will provide as you hold yet another bill that you can’t pay.
Noticing Him holding your tears of overwhelm.
Feeling Him delight in you as you delight in those around you.
Allowing His calming breath to steady you in the midst of unknown.
May we be invited, be it just for a small moment, to take off our shoes and live open to Him in this holy ground of a life we have.
May we look around us and hold grace for ourselves and remember that we are right where we need to be today.
May we slow down even more today, in the mundane, chaotic living, and be invited to a more intentional, slower pace of living—that allows us an extra minute to gaze into eyes, savor the flavor, smell the flowers, and take a deep breath in His presence today.
Substack always offers their writers the option to open up for paid subscriptions. I know many writers on this platform offer this to their subscribers, but for me, I hope to always keep what I offer here in this space free of charge. My husband and I serve in support-based missions work in diaspora ministry, specifically in refugee care. If you want to support my writing—you could give a one-time or recurring donation to our ministry and that would be a huge blessing.
This is such a beautiful reminder...that we cannot add or take away God's movement in our lives. How very secure and comforting!
I need to read this everyday! So beautiful and you captured exactly what has been on my heart! 🩷