Sometimes looking directly at glory is hard.
What are we to do when we accidentally slosh into a rain puddle? Laugh at every squishy step that reminds us we’re alive?
How do we respond to the pavement that used to taunt us but now cheers us on? Do we thank the glimmers of the asphalt that show us the way to victory?
What about the way the sun wiggles through the blinds and gently taps us on the shoulder when the night is gone? Do we welcome it in the same way we welcome the moon, which ushers us into rest?
To the tiny blades of grass that peak through the chubby toes of a baby just learning to walk, what can we possibly say?
Is it possible to fully digest the beauty and the glory of the scattered crumbs left over from the communion table?
What about the fiery red sweater that carries the familiar scent of someone’s perfume and chokes us into a silence? Can we carry the weight of our grief?
For all of these moments, and many more like them, that stop us in our tracks and remind us of who we are and what we are called to, hide your face if you must.
But remember, you are treading on holy ground.
What kind of glory has stopped you in your tracks?
Creator God, Burning Fire, we give thanks for every bit of glory. Help us know when we are standing on holy ground. Amen.