The Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins observed, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.”

Hopkins believed that God’s presence saturates the ordinary day-to-day world. If we have eyes to see and hearts to perceive, every sunrise, every act of kindness, every note of beautiful music, and every expression of genuine love can become a window through which we glimpse the sacred and the holy.

Perhaps that is why God so often chose ordinary places to reveal His extraordinary presence.

Moses was tending sheep when he encountered the burning bush. Jacob was sleeping on a stone when he dreamed of a ladder reaching into heaven. The disciples were mending nets, walking dusty roads, sharing meals, and sailing across the Sea of Galilee when they discovered that they were standing in the presence of the Son of God.

The sacred has always had a way of surprising us. Scripture tells us that when Moses approached the burning bush, God said, “Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.” (Exodus 3:5)

Notice that the ground itself was not inherently holy. God’s presence made it holy.

The same is true today. Sometimes the holiest moments are not experienced in a sanctuary or viewed through the prism of stained glass. There are occasions when seemingly ordinary moments become sacred—a sunrise bursting over the horizon, a conversation with a friend, the breaking of bread, listening to music, telling a story, rekindling a cherished memory, or serving someone in need. In those moments, we sense the Divine Presence and become aware, if only for a fleeting instant, that we are standing on holy ground.

I tend to call that sacred space “Holy Terra Firma.”

I was in seminary when I first heard of Brother Lawrence, a seventeenth-century Carmelite monk who spent much of his life working in the monastery kitchen. Washing pots and preparing meals hardly seemed like sacred work, yet he discovered profound communion with God amid the clatter of dishes and the routine of daily chores. His classic work, The Practice of the Presence of God, reminds us that God’s presence is not confined to cathedrals. The kitchen can become a sanctuary when our hearts and minds are attentive.

The beloved poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning expressed a similar truth: “Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God; but only he who sees takes off his shoes.”

Her imagery intentionally echoes Moses before the burning bush. The world is filled with holy moments, but too often we hurry past them without noticing.

Music has long helped us recognize these sacred encounters. Some of our most beloved hymns and songs remind us that holy ground is not merely a geographical location but a spiritual experience. Bill and Gloria Gaither’s beloved song “Holy Ground” declares, “We are standing on holy ground.” Likewise, “Surely the Presence of the Lord Is in This Place” by Lanny Wolfe has encouraged worshipers for generations to recognize God’s nearness. Even traditional hymns such as “Be Still, My Soul,” “Near to the Heart of God,” and “Open My Eyes, That I May See” invite us to become more aware of God’s presence in the ordinary rhythms of life.

Perhaps that is why certain songs move us so deeply. They awaken our awareness that heaven often touches earth in the most unexpected places.

Jesus certainly understood this. He transformed ordinary meals into sacred fellowship. He turned common fishing boats into floating classrooms. He made dusty roads into places of discipleship. He changed a rugged cross into the doorway of redemption and an empty tomb into the birthplace of hope.

Everywhere Jesus went, ordinary places became extraordinary because He was present.

The same invitation remains before us. The challenge is not that God has stopped speaking. The challenge is that we have become distracted by the clammoring noise around us. Our calendars are full. Our phones constantly demand our attention. Our schedules seldom allow us to linger long enough to notice the sacred that quietly surrounds us.

The psalmist offers to us a timeless invitation: “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

Stillness creates space for wonder. Wonder awakens gratitude. And gratitude opens our eyes to God’s presence.

I’ve heard quite a few motivational speakers and inspirational preachers say, “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” Many of those breathtaking moments are, in reality, holy moments.

Today, slow down. Watch the sunrise. Listen carefully to a child’s laughter. Share an unhurried meal with someone you love. Visit a friend. Offer encouragement to someone who is weary. Serve a neighbor in need. Pause long enough to hear the music that stirs your soul.

You may discover that what appeared to be an ordinary Tuesday was, in fact, a sacred appointment with God.

After all, holy ground is seldom marked by signs. It is recognized by hearts that have learned to notice the presence of the One who walks beside us every day.

So, watch your step! The ground you are standing on at any given moment could be Holy Terra Firma!

(This column is based on a sermon I preached at the First Baptist Church in Pensacola on July 12, 2009.)