Reimagine Rest- Dwelling in the Word

Exodus 33

Before you begin, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself slow down. Read Exodus 33 slowly—out loud if possible. Then pause and sit with it.

Read the passage 2–3 times, each time listening for:

A word or phrase that sticks out to you

A moment of connection to your own life or story

A nudge from the Spirit inviting you deeper

After you dwell with the passage, read the reflection below.

Rick takes pictures of me when I fall asleep which is often 😅

Devotional: Holy Ground, Hard-Won Wisdom, and Resting in God's Presence

I want to share what came out of my dwelling with the word today. I share this image of myself snoozing on the couch because this week is about reimagining rest.

I crashed and burned hard after the grind and disappointments of my twenties. My thirties have been a transformative period for me as I shed the naive, people pleasing, and self sacrificing girl I was to rest into this new season of wisdom and reimagined rest. I'm still set goals and trying to grow and do better but trying not to grind myself to exhaustion. I am still learning how to set and keep boundaries. I'm learning to say no and to ask for help. I am still working on myself but I no longer chase what the world says to chase. I'm learning new ways to rest and not just the naps I need when I crash from burnout. I am learning rest is stolen moments of presence in each day--seeing the divine moments of God in our everyday lives.

I’m in a season where wisdom is hitting different. It’s not something I learned in a book or earning another degree or certificate. It’s been carved out of my lived experience—the stuff that hurt, stretched me, that I never wanted to go through and don't wish upon anyone else because it nearly broke me. And yet, somehow, it’s also where I’ve seen God the clearest.

In Exodus 33, Moses is standing in the wreckage after the golden calf disaster. The people have betrayed the covenant. Everything’s shaken. God doesn't get angry or judge them. God says, “Go ahead to the Promised Land... but I’m not coming with you.”

That moment right there? That hit something in me.

Because Moses doesn’t say, “Fine, we’ll go anyway.” He says, “If your presence doesn’t go with us, don’t send us.”

That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

I feel that deeply. I don’t want to move without God’s presence because I know times that God's presence was the only thing that kept me moving. I don’t want to take another step if love and truth and grace aren’t coming with me.

The more I’ve lived, the more I’ve suffered and healed, the more I see scripture with new eyes. I can’t read the text the same way I used to—because now I’ve lived some of it. And because others have trusted me with their stories, I’m also seeing beyond just my experience.

And here’s the beautiful part:

When we learn to see beyond ourselves, we return to ourselves differently—deeper, wiser, softer.

I don’t feel worthy of the call I carry. To those who say women should not be pastors--Bro, (or Bruh as my kids would say), I wish that were true. A clock in and clock out job would be easier! Yet, here I am and it's because of God so believe whatever interpretation of Timothy or whoever you want to quote because God has delivered me, God has walked in my wilderness, and God is the only promise land I desire and I want as many misfits like me to make it there as possible.

There's always the question of faith when you strip the BS religious dogma away that empires use to manipulate people....the raw and honest questions: What if I get to the end and it was all wrong? What if there is nothing?

That's the leap of faith I take now because I know here and now in this embodied experience we call life, I've definitely experienced something. I know I didn’t get here alone. Divine presence has always been with me and God has used every fire, every breaking point, every “I can’t do this” moment to shape something in me that could hold space for others.

This is holy ground. Not because it’s perfect. But because it’s real even if it's not a tangible physical object. The best things in life aren't things. I don't really care if I get to heaven or if there is one. That's God's business and I trust God to tend to that business. I care about where I am on the journey right now and I know my ways are not the best ways. My golden calf moments were fun at the time but foolish and sometimes embarrassing in hindsight.

God I don't want to go anywhere if it is without you even if it's a place promised to me. Even if it's paradise. Paradise without your loving presence is empty. I want to rest in God here, now, and forever.

Prayer

God, thank you for not letting my wilderness be wasted. Thank you for walking with me through seasons that stripped me down but also brought me back to what matters most. Teach me to listen well—to your voice, to the stories of others, and to the deeper truth rising in me. May I always seek your presence over progress. And may the wisdom born from my scars be a blessing to someone else. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What part of Exodus 33 speaks to your current season of life?

2. Where have you seen God shape you through something hard—and how has that changed how you show up in the world?

3. What does it mean for you to be standing on holy ground right now?