Holy Ground

 Spring has sprung here in southern California, and the gorgeous photogenic days mean one thing in the Hocking household - dirt.  I saw this adorable wall decal once that defined "Boys" as "noun.  Noise with dirt on it". Truer words may have never been spoken.  But let's not count out little girls.  Sweet P might be sugar and spice and everything nice, but earlier today she looked like she had a beard.  I'm sure the dirt offers some sort of protein.  I think I've already swept up an inch of dirt off my living room floor today.  Dirt has always been my enemy.  I'm not fond of camping because of dirt.  I don't like gardening because of dirt, and sometimes I don't like the beach because of dirt.  And then I had toddlers, and Dirt became a supervillian that you could make a movie out of.  When I look at my dirt-speckled children, all I can think about is how all that dirt will soon be in my house.  I'm just done.  Over it.  Ready to grab the hose and just spray the living daylights out of everything.  And then I hear giggles.  And the pitter-patter of little feet.  "Come on, Peyton! Let's race!" Matt yells excitedly as Peyton gleefully runs barefoot after him to whatever adventures await.  I sigh.  I'm tired of all the dirt.

And then I hear it, soft as the wind in the trees - "The ground you stand on is holy."

Could that be true?  Could the very ground - and therefore the dirt - that Moses stood on have been sacred?  Now, I'm no theologian, and so I ask those of you who are to please bear with me as I take some liberties with my analysis.  I'm sure that I will be getting a phone call from my dad after he reads this post informing me of the true Hebraic context and all my inaccuracies (for more on my follow-up on that conversation and more on my relationship with my dad, look out for my future book The Horse Went Moo), but for now, I am a mom, writing on the living room floor, building a duplo tower with one hand and typing with the other.

"'Do not come any closer,' God said, 'Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground'". (Exodus 3:5)

Moses was out in the wilderness.  He wasn't in a cushy church or office building.  He wasn't even sitting on his graham cracker crumbed rug.  He was in the dirt.  And God didn't say, sweep up the dirt, spray some Lysol on the ground, lay out a freshly laundered blanket, and then you can talk to me.  He didn't even tell Moses to wash his hands first.  Because the truth is, that it's not about the dirt.  It's God's presence that is holy.  And thanks be to God, his presence is with us everywhere.  His presence doesn't require special cleansing or rituals.  His presence is available to us right here, right now, just as we are.  And as a mom of two little ones who almost never stop moving, who hasn't showered yet today and might still be wearing her pajamas, I'm extremely grateful for that.

So run your fingers through the soil today.  Rub your toes deep into the sand. Or just put your shoed feet on a chair and spend some time in prayer.   Shoot up an arrow prayer at lunch; thank Him that you can reach him in your car or knee deep in shampoo as you try to reach the dirt in the crevices of your children's ears.   I might even try to get a little dirty with my kids today.  Because I'm thankful that wherever I stand, Christ has made it holy ground, a place where, if I listen, I can hear his voice and talk with him.

My kids in their happy place