Burning Bushes are Everywhere

by Traci Hubbard

One Sunday a minister spoke about looking for signs of life, wander, and wonder wherever you are. After church, a little boy pulled the minister away from the crowd and quietly told him, "My dad is a road worker. I never wanted to believe that my dad was stealing from his job. But when I got home, all the signs were there and that’s the truth. I don’t even need to wonder about that.”

The peculiar thing about sacred moments is they rarely look sacred at the beginning of our encounter. They often feel and look like interruptions, or not what we expected at all moments, or delays, or too quiet to be of significance, or a bush on fire that isn’t consumed, it simply stays burning.

Many of us are hoping, praying even, for a sign from the universe, from LOVE, that will speak dramatically and clearly…some unmistakable sign that helps us connect in life changing ways with ourselves and others, especially those dearests to our hearts. We want to hear the voice of the Spirit saying what you are looking for, what you need, is right here, right now.  But what if the problem isn’t that the breath of our being is not being silent… it’s that we’re walking past moments of burning bushes every day of our lives without recognizing them?

We have the wisdom of the prophets, particularly today, the prophet Jeremiah, reminding us how to experience connection, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” And we have Luke the Physician encouraging us to “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

I want us to notice something – the mystery and science of our life force is not hiding. Seldom does Holy Mystery shout over the distractions inside our hearts and minds, and the distractions outside of us. Moses almost missed his burning bush. He wasn’t inside the temple. He wasn’t lost in a prayer. He was in the same ol’ place, the same ol’ ordinary day that looked and felt like the day before. He was at work, tending sheep, and if he were me, he would have been thinking, “Is this really my life?” And while the sheep were sleeping, or grazing, or pooping, he was drawing circles in the dirt with his staff and then – WOOF! A bush lights up as if it is on fire. The fire, the energy, was not consuming the bush, it was talking to him.

Remember a time when you knew something, felt something, were changed by something so beautifully that you couldn’t wait to tell that one special person? And when you finally stood before them, you didn’t have to say anything because your countenance and energy spoke your news before you did?

Moses was having another boring and definitely stinky day and something, some energy, vibration, frequency caught his attention and interrupted the “woe is me” story he was creating, and he found himself turning aside to look for and listen to something very different. Something he didn’t ask for…something outside his scope of understanding…something he didn’t know he needed.

I wonder how many moments appear to us in our day and we miss them because we do not turn aside to look? Maybe we don’t investigate because we are creating a “woe is me” narrative or wanting more in our lives without accepting ownership in being the creator of our lives? Or maybe we don’t turn aside because we allow our emotional or physical pain to become the writer and director of our lives.

How many conversations have we rushed through? How many times did we half-listen to a child, to anyone, asking a question or sharing something important to them? How many times did a quiet nudge to pause, to listen, to say something encouraging did we dismiss as “just a thought”? How many sunsets went by without notice because we were scrolling on our phones? Folks, if Moses had an iPhone, Exodus might be one verse long, "And Moses saw something unusual, but he had notifications from Texts and Instagram, so he kept writing in the dirt while he sent emojis.”

Joseph Campbell wrote, “The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” But most of us are too busy trying to get through our day without feeling what is meaningful to fully experience – embody – inhabit our day. Jeremiah tells us, “You will seek me and find me.” Not casually. Not occasionally. You will find me and experience me with all your heart. Jesus echoes this transcendent reality by saying, “Ask. Seek. Knock.” These are not passive verbs. They are movements of attention and intention. The Spirit and meaningful connections with others are not locked behind a door without a key. Sadly, the Spirit of Love, and rich life changing and enhancing meaningful moments, even hours, days, years of connection, are doors many bother to knock on.

David worked a regular job, nothing glamorous, he fixed equipment in a warehouse. Every day felt like Groundhog Day, the very same. Same commute, same tasks, same coffee that somehow always tasted like cold foil. One morning, he noticed an older coworker struggling to lift something heavy. David had seen this before and usually he’d think, “Not my problem,” and keep moving. But that day, something small, almost nothing, nudged his heart. He stopped. He helped. And while he was helping the two men began talking. David learned the man had just lost his wife and didn’t have anyone to talk to. That five-minute pause turned into a friendship and it deepened into David visiting him weekly. David shared with me, "I think that’s where I found God again." Not in a sanctuary. Not in a crisis. David rediscovered holy love in a moment he almost ignored. In a burning bush moment.

Campbell also said, “Anywhere (you are) is the center of the world.” When we are willing to BE where our feet are, every moment is a sacred place where eternity burns through with love.  Many think or believe that transcendence means escaping life. But what if transcendence means going deeper into the moment? Deeper into the awkward conversation, the unexpected interruption, the vulnerable feeling, the moment you didn’t expect or the thing that doesn’t fit how you envisioned your day? Those things, those moments, those feelings, are often the doors. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus didn’t say, “Wait for lightning.” He said, knock.

Roald Dahl wrote, “And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.” Neither Roald or I are talking about fairy dust and wands. We’re talking about sweet, and sometimes ordinary holy surprise. The kind that shows up in ordinary Tuesdays, inconvenient people, small acts of kindness, and quiet inner whispers. Friends, the problem isn’t that there’s no magic. It’s that we’ve trained ourselves to believe not to expect it. We’ve become experts at explaining things away saying things like, it’s “just coincidence” or it’s “just a feeling” or it’s “just weird timing”. Meanwhile, the Spirit is saying, "Yes. Exactly. That’s how I work."

We often think “transcend” means leaving something, even the world, behind. But what if it means seeing the present moment and the world differently? I mean bushes are still bushes until they burn with meaning. The moment is still ordinary, but now it carries presence and meaning ALIVE! The person in front of us, like ourselves, is still flawed, but now they reflect something divine. Transcendence is not escaping. It is awakening.

So, how do we choose to embody each moment in our day?  First, I highly recommend trying not to manufacture burning bushes. What I do hope and encourage us to do is notice them. Let’s take simple steps by pausing when something catches our attention.

Listening when something stirs our heart. Asking a question when we don’t understand. And knocking when something invites us to explore deeper. Because the promise remains through our day, “Seek… and you will find. Knock… and the door will be opened.”

What if this week, just this week, we lived as if every interruption might be sacred, and every person might carry a message, and every moment might be a doorway. We might feel a little strange at first and that’s okay. Moses probably looked a little strange standing in front of a bush, staring at it like it just told him a secret.

Last week, I experienced and gave myself completely over to a whole lot of sacred ordinary with my family. I spent three days with Amy on her couch…we had our blankets, tea…she had prepared my favorite simple foods, and we spent all day Monday – 12 hours, all day Tuesday, 10 hours, and all day Wednesday, until 6 pm when we gathered at Sarah’s house for a family dinner. On Tuesday evening, Amy and I went to see the movie, Hail Mary. Fifteen minutes into the movie, Amy put her arm inside mine and squeezed and I turned aside and looked at her and she whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.” A few sweet happy tears went down both of our faces. Monday – Wednesday, all we did was sit on her couch and answer questions from a game.

We shared our hearts…we cried, we laughed, we wondered, we listened, we learned, and Thursday night, when I hugged her goodbye, we looked at one another and said, “Be where your feet are.” And in that moment of goodbye, we experienced transcendence of time and space. My burning bush was me and my daughter sitting on her couch, no make-up, sweatshirts and flannels, blankets, snacks and tea and our willingness to ask questions, share from our hearts, and listen with our hearts. There are burning bushes everywhere and they are calling us, not away from our lives, but deeper into them. May we be where feet are and take the time to listen and transcend. May it be so, amen.