holy ground

I used to believe that holiness happened in a church. It was probably the product of growing up in a Baptist congregation but I figured the sacred happened in the sanctuary. It's not a wrong opinion, in fact, it's often correct. However, it is limiting. Holiness cannot be contained by walls. It seeps out covering all parts of life. I've seen it over the past year, sacredness in big moments. Some were times of grief, others of celebration, as we felt the divine brush up against us.


But what if it isn't only the large markers? What if the sacred and the simple are the same?

Cleaning the house to rap music. Chasing the dog. Stirring spicy soups as football plays. Holding a friend's baby. Running errands while listening to Acts. Folding laundry. Letting in the pest control man. Trying out a new bible study. Could it be that it's all hallowed?

Yes. We stand on holy ground. It's holy because Jesus purchased it. It's holy because it is covered with grace and calling. It's holy because it is sanctifying. If our lives are to be a picture of God's glory then every moment is reverent, consecrated, and blessed. That doesn't mean every moment is serious. Reverent draws up images of nuns quietly bowing to pray. It means every moment is connected to God. The silly, the mundane, all of it is divine. 

So I'm claiming it, all of it, as holy ground, as space for God to use. Maybe it's being used to cultivate joy so I better reflect his character. Maybe it's being used to produce peace so I can better explain his heart. Maybe it's not even about me at all but rather about the good gifts he gives his children. What I know is that these moments string up to create a life, small choices add up to a mission, and the minute magnifies into the mighty.


I'll keep throwing open the windows and asking Jesus to come on in while I wash dishes and dance to Macklemore. Because, this, all of this, is holy ground. Connected to grace, reflections of glory. And that is simply divine.

*nothing expresses this better than this song by John Mark & Sara McMillan. Enjoy.




Meredith Harper