Inspiration & Revelation | Thin Place

Each morning, before heading into work, I arrive five to ten minutes early and just dwell in my car. Often I listen to meditations on different scriptures to center my mind and heart on the word of God. However, one morning, I felt drawn to one song and made it my prayer. It starts off recognizing that Christ has torn the veil and enabled any place to be a thin place. A place where we can commune with Him. I pleaded with God that throughout the day He would make my work environment a thin place. That He would be very present in the clinic rooms, nurses station, break room, offices, etc. He did indeed make that place a sacred space that day. After work, I was given that opportunity to share my testimony with one of my coworkers and ask if she needed prayer. I prayed with her and was reminded that the Holy Spirit was interceding on our behalf.

After that day, He has emphasized that any place can be holy ground as He abides in me and I can meet with Him anywhere. He is never far away. In Psalms 84, He reminds us that His dwelling places are lovely and that we should long and greatly desire to be in His courts. In His presence we find strength for the day and hope for tomorrow. He makes our hearts highways to Zion. We are blessed and greatly favored when we trust in Him, rely on Him, commit our ways to Him, and have confident hope and expectation in Him. 

Thin Place

This is a thin place
This is where You meet with us
This is sacred space
This is where You meet with us
Holy ground
We are standing on
Holy ground
Just by being here with You
You are never far away
Mountain high or darkest day

Deep in doubt or filled with faith
You walk with us along the way
This is where You meet with us
This is where You meet with us
This is where You meet with us
This is where You meet with us
This is where You meet with us
We love being here with You
We love being here with You

This is a photo of a piece of artwork I created after listening to this song and being inspired by the Holy Spirit.

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About the Author

Mollie is recently married to her wonderful husband Dustin. She is a Wound Care RN at McKenzie Willamette Hospital. She enjoys being creative, getting outdoors and spending time with friends and family.

Miracles Welcome | Thin Places: Seeking God while Parenting in a Global Pandemic

This summer, the constant background noise of my mind has been the semi-panicked thought loop of: “The schools have to reopen this fall. I cannot have a repeat of the spring.”

Unfortunately for me, this past week our school district made the announcement that fall will be entirely online. I am in a sad/mad/fearful/confused state about this decision. I am angry at the challenges this poses to my family as well as the wide-reaching inequities this exposes — families that can pay for childcare or private tutors will do so. Other families will be left scrambling and be forced to leave kids mostly unsupervised. In many cases, moms will be the ones figuring out how to juggle childcare and homeschooling responsibilities with work, while dads are able to continue working mostly undisturbed.

Children will fall behind academically, but even more seriously, they will be at higher risk for abuse and neglect as support for families reaches an all-time low. Additionally, many kids rely on eating free breakfast and lunch at school 5 days a week. Even when schools continue to provide free meals, families may lack the transportation to come pick up food.

I do take the risks of COVID very seriously and realize that there is no perfect solution. We can’t avoid risk entirely, but we need to minimize it. I adopted mask-wearing in March and wish that everyone would have done so. As one article I recently read stated, “this isn’t rocket science.” We know what we need to do.

I wish so much that I could change the past, that I could wave a wand and our nation could have developed a better response to COVID that would now allow local schools to safely reopen. I wish so much that I could change other people’s choices in the present, that everyone would comply perfectly with mask-wearing and social-distancing so that this nightmare could be over. I cannot change either of those things. I can only control my own response (and sometimes even that seems difficult).

So how will my family get through this next season of remote learning? I’m not sure. Like, really unsure, and because of this, I’ve been praying for help. It’s one of the most basic prayers, “God if you’re listening, please help.” Save our ship.

Since I’ve been praying directly for help more, a few things have arisen. I put my daughter on the list for a fall childcare option that sounds functional, and made plans for my mom to babysit/homeschool my 5-year-old son. I have had a couple of outdoor meet-ups with friends, and just seeing friends in real life made me feel better. A retired K-3 teacher offered to help me with tutoring. My supervisor at work told me they’re looking into ways to support staff with children under age 10.

There aren’t many bright sides to this pandemic, but one idea that’s been resonating with me lately is the Celtic idea of “thin places” — places where the veil between the spiritual and physical world is thin. These are places where we may feel the presence of the divine, or perhaps experience the miraculous.

I’ve been in thin places a few times, or perhaps I should clarify, places that were thin to me. In the trailer where I taught fourth grade at a tiny mission school in northeast Portland, praying with my students daily about their little and big concerns. On a study abroad trip to West Africa, the Holy Spirit seemed almost as present as the smell of diesel fuel permeating the air. Hiking through Mt. Pisgah Arboretum with my family.

Could the idea of thin places also apply to times in our lives, and could this season become one of them for me? Could it for you? I believe that sometimes, when we come to the end of our rope, when our resources are tapped out and we can’t go any farther on our own strength — those are the times when God is able to work most powerfully in our lives.

I certainly feel thinned out, with so much of my sense of control and normalcy missing. What remains when we lose our illusions of control?

Small moments. Great blue herons fishing in the river. Hummingbirds in my backyard. My son giggling. Reading to my daughter before bed. Knowing that I still enjoy spending time with my husband after 16 years together.

Faith, hope, and love.

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About the Author

Ursula and her husband Spencer have two young children, and their family enjoys playing hide-and-seek and dancing in the living room. She works as a communications and events coordinator with the University of Oregon.

You can read more from Ursula at motherbearblog.com.