Holy Ground In Everyday Places

There's a house in my new neighborhood that I pass pretty often that has some unusual planters near its curb.  They are large and appear to be hand-painted in bright colors.  

These planters are difficult to miss, and I decided the other day that must have been the point for the owner of the house.  The owners not only painted them but also placed them in a spot where they would be clearly visible to everyone who drove or walked past. 

I got to thinking then about how many times I'd passed them before they became mundane to me--just another part of the route to my house.  Until that moment, I had never really given them much thought beyond the flash of color as I drove by.  

As I thought of the time, energy, and joy that must have gone into placing the planters there, and how amazing all of that was, I was reminded of this short snippet of a poem by Elizabeth Barett Browning that I once read: 

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees takes off his shoes.”

Most of us spend our lives waiting for dramatic moments to convince us that God is near. We imagine that holiness must arrive in thunderclouds, mountaintop revelations, or life-changing miracles. 

Yet Scripture often tells a different story. Moses encountered God not in a palace or cathedral, but while tending sheep in the wilderness. An ordinary bush burned, and suddenly the ground beneath his feet became holy (Exodus 3:1–5).

The sacred often hides itself inside the ordinary.

We rush through our days scarcely noticing the life around us—the warmth of morning light through a kitchen window, the sound of laughter at dinner, the quiet companionship of a friend, the stillness that settles over a room after everyone else has gone to sleep. 

We are so conditioned to seek “big” spiritual experiences that we overlook the countless small moments when grace quietly waits for us.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s words remind us that heaven is not far away. Creation itself hums with the presence of God. The problem is not that God is absent; it is that we have forgotten how to see.

Jesus understood this deeply. He constantly pointed people toward ordinary things—a mustard seed, bread, birds of the air, lilies in a field, fishermen casting nets—and said, in essence, “Pay attention. The kingdom of God is here.”

Perhaps holiness is not reserved for extraordinary moments after all. Perhaps holiness is learning to become fully awake to the life already unfolding around us.

Today, slow down enough to notice. Let the sacred interrupt your routine. Pause before rushing to the next task. Breathe deeply. Give thanks for something simple. The ordinary places of your life may be far holier than you realize.

Prayer

God of burning bushes and quiet mornings, open my eyes to your presence in the ordinary rhythms of life. Teach me to slow down long enough to notice grace hiding in simple moments. Help me to walk through this day with wonder, gratitude, and reverence. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What ordinary moment in your life recently felt unexpectedly sacred?
2. Where do you tend to overlook God because life feels too routine?
3. How might slowing down help you become more aware of God’s presence?