The Nazareth Iris is a special flower that grows in Israeli in the hills of Moreh.
Moreh is the Biblical place of a mountain in Canaan located on the northeast side of the Jezreel Valley where the beautiful Nazareth Iris grows. It is gender-neutral, and in Hebrew, indicates stretching and fruitfulness. It is the place where Abraham built an altar in the land of Palestine and the Lord met him there. It is translated as the “Oak of Righteousness”.
Oaks are hardy trees with a deep system of roots anchoring them securely so they can withstand many seasons of hardship and storm. Oak wood is known for its strength, hardness, and resistance to predators and other destructive growth.
During a time of prayer, I asked God what He called me, and I heard in my spirit “Moreh”.
Nothing about my life or my journey lends itself to either the name or its character. Even now, I feel far from righteous and often, as willowy as a reed. Indeed, my life has been a series of bending and twisting, a tossed gambit of “to and fro”, and at times, seemed as a soon-to-be extinguished vapor.
With time, I have begun to understand this name. As an “oak of righteousness”, Abba wasn’t implying my own strength, but rather the characteristics imparted by Him to endure times of testing, garner strength during hardships, remain resolute during drought, and withstand seasons of attack. It speaks to what my earthly father called “bulldog tenacity” – to not just endure, but to remain faithful and fruitful, grounded in the roots of righteousness found only in Christ Jesus. It means to expand in Him secure against all storms and rising toward the light of Christ, growing ever closer to my home with Him.” This place, called “Moreh” is a personal place of surrender, a place of sacrifice, seeking guidance, and choice.
ABBA Father spoke again and reminded me that He saw with wisdom that is His alone, and sees all of us as what we are becoming and not as we are. This earthly journey is and always will be, a walk of faith. A daily stomp through the valleys of life, sometimes meeting with Him on the mountain as Moses, but still descending to do the day-to-day tasks required to walk out our faith, step by step – to serve Him.
I am still journeying through Canaan, and just as Abraham stopped to build a memorial to His God, (Genesis 12:6-7) and entered a covenant with Him, so did I. And, hopefully, so will you. We mark places of remembrance, fortify ourselves to move forward, and rely on His promises to take us to that promised place of rest and peace found only in Him.
At times, like Gideon who also questioned God’s guidance at this same place, I find myself asking for fleeces, and the assurance that what He has asked me to do is truly Him. The asking is not always unbelief, but incredulity that He would request such a great thing from someone who appears so inadequate in their own eyes.
When ABBA reminded me that He alone should be the object of my worship, I did as Jacob (Genesis 35:4), and buried earthly idols in this same space. Here I am reminded of both the blessings and curses of choice. Then, like Joshua (Deuteronomy 11:26-30), ABBA set before me His reminder of the covenant I vowed (Joshua 24:26 ), to serve Him, and Him only all the days of my life.
This journaling experience I am inviting you to take is personal. It will not be without perils, pains, and downfalls, and it is certainly not about perfection! It is about pursuing, finding, and walking with a God who promises us, you and I, to be present all the days of this human journey.
Our goal is His heart.
Our mission – His commission.
Our task is to finish the race set before us until we can say as Christ did, “it is finished”