(Inspired by) Burning Bush

(Exodus 3:2)  I AM a prickly bush. I’m not even a garden variety grade. No.  I am one among the multitude of parched skeletal desert tumbleweeds that only wishes I were a tree with branches.  I am not a mighty oak, strong and sturdy, or a majestic pine tree tall and stately. I am subject to lightning bolts igniting me, and I count my days until my number is up.  I am puny and unprotected, except for these thorns which are aborted branches; they’ve done me no good.  I AM a thorny bush.

I am on fire, but am not consumed.  Moses turns aside to investigate why I am not being burnt. Suddenly, I’m not like the run-of-the-mill bushes Moses suspects nomads used last night for a campfire or the remains of a lightning storm. Moses usually walks right by me, but today my brightness draws him near. I am not on fire.  The fire is within me.  When God sees Moses looking intently, God calls to him through me and says, “Moses, Moses.  Here am I.”

I am a bush. I am not the I AM, but he is within me.

You are a bush. Is God speaking through you?

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