Noticing

Slowing Down

I have written some thoughts about Moses and the burning bush before, but it seems that I have arrived there again, drawn this time, to a different phrase in the story.

The second verse of Exodus 3 makes an interesting statement. Depending on which version of the Bible you happen to be reading, there are variations on: he looked, stared in amazement, saw, noticed, or said to himself “I will turn aside to see”. Whichever version you choose, there is an interesting element of taking note. I was particularly struck by “he noticed”.

Well of course he noticed – it was a bush on fire as he passed by! But there seems to be a suggestion that there was more than a passing glimpse. He not only saw, he stopped, he took note.

There is a world of difference between being aware of something and seeing it. Have you ever said or heard someone say, “I’ve driven past it so often but only really noticed it as I was walking.”

It was when Moses stopped and noticed that God spoke from the bush. However, he did not stop in order to hear God’s voice. He stopped to look, to take note, to wonder – and discovered a miracle happened.

Teaching ourselves to stop and notice – a leaf, a cloud or the smile of a friend, not only anchors us to the moment but gives us the opportunity to discover more than we might with a fleeting glance. We look with the intention of looking and in doing so there are often moments of fresh understanding and insight. Moses’ miracle was a large one, ours might be smaller but none the less just as significant.

There is a mystery to slowing down to notice. When was I last aware of my feet on the ground as I walked or really noticed the piece of cake that I was eating? How often do I linger on the words of a text rather than immediately beginning my response? Just as Moses noticed, it is increasingly my experience that as I pause, however briefly during the insignificant moments of my life, my awareness of the proximity of God is deepened; there is opportunity to notice the miracle of His presence. Rarely is it grand or earth shattering, but is, nevertheless, a touch of the divine.

Take a moment where you are – or when you are next outside – to stop. What is it that you notice? Perhaps something which may well have gone un-noticed previously. Take some time to observe it, don’t analyse or categorise it, just be with it.

I wonder what you will see?