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Steve Herrmann's avatar

Pastor Chris, thank you. Your words are an invitation—an echo of the ancient call to abide, to turn our worn, overburdened faces toward the hidden hearth of God’s presence.

What you describe is the very ache that lies at the heart of all incarnational mysticism. The desert fathers knew it. That the soul begins to starve not for lack of labor but for want of Presence.

It is not escape we long for, but embodiment. The kind of embodiment Mary found at the feet of Christ—not the absence of duty but the re-centering of all duties in the sacred stillness of divine proximity. There, even folding laundry becomes liturgy. There, the “tent” we are asked to pitch, becomes the tabernacle of God’s dwelling with us.

In my own reflections at Desert and Fire, I’ve tried to name this paradox: that the world becomes holy not by retreating from it but by seeing God in everything—the ache, the delay, the burden, even the broken printer. Your story of finding the sacred in such mundane service is precisely what incarnational mysticism insists upon: that the Incarnation did not end in Bethlehem, but continues, mysteriously, in us.

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