Beloved Dust



As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.

Ps 103:13


Artists know themselves and they know all the ins and outs of the created thing.

They don’t forget the first inspiration that caused their hearts to move. They don’t forget collecting their thoughts and their materials. They don’t forget the sacred moment of  that first brushstroke, that first note, that first feel of clay in their palms.

And the ones who create never have to wrestle with where they stand in the process; their passion defines the process. It is the process they live for. It is the process that cradles their joy and wraps it into all things wild and messy and free.

An artist’s releases their identity into their creation – they can’t help it.

* * *

Our Creator knows intimately how we are formed.

We are his inspiration,

his vision,

… his beloved dust.


I live on a dirt road and dust is inevitable, unstoppable. Everywhere I look, everyday I live, every shaft of light reveals more and more and even more dust.

I hate dust.

And dusting is just a cruel joke. You whisk it away on feathers that maybe (at best) hold the capacity of one swirling sweep. Then you have to walk outside, shake like a crazy person and return for one more sweep. Time and time again. One sweep. Trek outside. Shake. Back for more. Another sweep. Walk outside. Shake and hope the wind doesn’t shift throwing it all back in your face. But all the time knowing by tomorrow it won’t have mattered anyway

… because you can already see the dust settling on your first swept path.

I hate dust, and the thought that I’m just a collection of lumped dust is a touch disconcerting to say the least. I don’t want to spend my life gathering dust, or waiting for the dust to settle, or afraid of when I’ll bite the dust.

But God isn’t a random builder, or a heartless slinger of mud…

God is Visionary. Artist. Creator.

When God looks to create, he doesn’t see dust, he sees me. He sees you. He sees an artist’s palette of glimmering possibilities – golden specks –  shining in the shaft of his light.

He knows who He is – Father. And He knows who we are.

We are his children – his gold dust.

As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.

Loved into being.

Swept away

in his love.


Lord create in me – out of this golden dust of my life –  beautiful things.






4 comments on “Beloved Dust

  1. atimetoshare says:

    I loved this connection to dust. To think that God created us out of basically something totally useless is awesome.

  2. ilahmarie says:

    wow, Jane. really great words of insight! I shall think of myself as a golden palette of precious dust from now on!

  3. geniecan says:

    Thank you for this lovely birth day essay- poem “Creators release their identity into their creation….” a piece of artistic wisdom to meditate on for a long time… love it…love you Jim is doing better I’m having a blessed day of appreciating the dust of which we are all made and connected by…living flesh to’s all beautiful xox

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