When God Calls Your Name

Picture this: You're 80 years old. You've spent the last 40 years as a shepherd in the middle of nowhere. Your glory days are way behind you. You had your shot at making a difference when you were younger, and you blew it. Now you're just trying to keep the sheep alive and make it through another day.

That's Moses. And that's exactly when God shows up.

Moses is doing the most ordinary thing imaginable—watching his father-in-law's sheep—when he sees something that makes him stop. A bush is on fire, but it's not burning up. It's the kind of thing that makes you do a double-take. So Moses walks over to check it out, and that's when everything changes. God calls his name. Twice. "Moses, Moses."

Here's what gets me about this moment: God didn't show up in the palace when Moses was young and powerful and connected. He didn't appear when Moses had influence and resources. God waited until Moses was old, forgotten, and living in the desert. God specializes in showing up when we least expect it, in places we'd never think to look.

The burning bush wasn't in Jerusalem. It wasn't at the temple. It was on some random hillside where an old shepherd was just trying to do his job. God meets us in the ordinary moments of our lives—not just in church on Sunday, but on Tuesday afternoon when we're doing laundry or sitting in traffic or making dinner. He's not limited to the spectacular. He shows up in the everyday.

And when God shows up, everything changes. Moses takes off his sandals because suddenly this random patch of desert is holy ground. Not because the dirt was special, but because God was there. That's how it works. Wherever God is becomes sacred space.