Dust

I’ve always loved visiting monuments, ancient cathedrals, stopping by historical markers on the highway. I’ve spent countless hours marveling at places where wars were fought, saints prayed and peace quietly prevailed.

A friend of mine is making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land soon and I’ve felt a little twinge of jealousy creeping in. It would be really cool to touch stones that formed the gate where Jesus entered or step in the dust that covered the disciples’ sandals as Jesus washed their feet. But even if I never get to make that trip, God assures me that I don’t have to.

At our Ash Wednesday service last night, my pastor marked my forehead with ashes and said, "You are dust and to dust you will return." I am dust and to dust I will return. These words turned over and over in my head until I heard something I'd never heard before. It's not just the dust in Jerusalem that's special. I am made of dust way cooler than that. Dust that yielded to its Creator to become something more.

In Genesis, we read the creation story. God created heaven and earth. He lit the sky with brilliant stars for day and night. He covered the ground with a lush garden and made all manner of creatures to roam. Then, God scooped me up, carefully formed me in His perfect image and breathed life into me.

I am the dust of creation.