Blessing at the Burning Bush by Jan Richardson
You will have to decide
if you want this--
want the blessing
that comes to you
on an ordinary day
when you are minding
your own path,
bent on the task before you
that you have done
a hundred times,
a thousand.
You will have to choose
for yourself
whether you will attend
to the signs,
whether you will open your eyes
to the searing light, the heat,
whether you will open
your ears, your heart
to the voice
that knows your name,
that tells you this place
where you stand--
this ground so familiar
and therefore unregarded--
is, in fact,
holy.
You will have to discern
whether you have
defenses enough
to rebuff the call,
excuses sufficient
to withstand the pull
of what blazes before you;
whether you will
hide your face,
will turn away
back toward--
what, exactly?
No path from here
could ever be
ordinary again,
could ever become
unstrange to you
whose seeing
has been scorched
beyond all salving.
You will know your path
not by how it shines
before you
but by how it burns
within you,
leaving you whole
as you go from here
blazing with
your inarticulate,
your inescapable
yes.
As Jan Richardson so beautifully poeticizes, Moses’ life altering encounter with Love takes place during a typical day. It is in the ordinary that the most extraordinary thing occurs. A bush that is burning but is not consumed. In the most familiar of places, the ground takes on new meaning...holy.
“I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.”*
That may not be clear now, it may not be clear for a long time. When our eyes have been “scorched beyond all salving”, there is no going back. There is a new way we see.
I have only lived my experience. I know everyone’s journey is unique. Our relationship with Love is experienced in different ways. I am convinced, however, that the one certainty is the offer of Life.
I am convinced of Love's ability to communicate. I also know it is not usually what we may expect. It may not be often, but it will be unmistakable...like a bush that is burning, but is not consumed.
*Exodus 3:3
You will have to decide
if you want this--
want the blessing
that comes to you
on an ordinary day
when you are minding
your own path,
bent on the task before you
that you have done
a hundred times,
a thousand.
You will have to choose
for yourself
whether you will attend
to the signs,
whether you will open your eyes
to the searing light, the heat,
whether you will open
your ears, your heart
to the voice
that knows your name,
that tells you this place
where you stand--
this ground so familiar
and therefore unregarded--
is, in fact,
holy.
You will have to discern
whether you have
defenses enough
to rebuff the call,
excuses sufficient
to withstand the pull
of what blazes before you;
whether you will
hide your face,
will turn away
back toward--
what, exactly?
No path from here
could ever be
ordinary again,
could ever become
unstrange to you
whose seeing
has been scorched
beyond all salving.
You will know your path
not by how it shines
before you
but by how it burns
within you,
leaving you whole
as you go from here
blazing with
your inarticulate,
your inescapable
yes.
As Jan Richardson so beautifully poeticizes, Moses’ life altering encounter with Love takes place during a typical day. It is in the ordinary that the most extraordinary thing occurs. A bush that is burning but is not consumed. In the most familiar of places, the ground takes on new meaning...holy.
“I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.”*
That may not be clear now, it may not be clear for a long time. When our eyes have been “scorched beyond all salving”, there is no going back. There is a new way we see.
I have only lived my experience. I know everyone’s journey is unique. Our relationship with Love is experienced in different ways. I am convinced, however, that the one certainty is the offer of Life.
I am convinced of Love's ability to communicate. I also know it is not usually what we may expect. It may not be often, but it will be unmistakable...like a bush that is burning, but is not consumed.
*Exodus 3:3