We are broken people living in a broken world. And no matter how much we wish it weren't so, the evidence of our brokenness keeps showing up—over and over again. Pride, selfishness, impatience, and unkindness pile up like dust. A wandering heart and a desire to be seen, right, and in control.
We wipe it away by confessing it, repenting of it—and then, somehow, there it is again. The Red dust is real, but it is not permanent.
The red dust.
It was a sunny Saturday, the wind was blowing, and the ball fields were packed. The baseball tournament was well underway, and the crack of the bats and the cheers from the stands made it challenging to hear the person next to you. We were lugging our coolers, tents, chairs, and toys, and I was looking for the field number or the Nationals jerseys...
This morning, I walked into the local coffee shop a little earlier than the friend I was meeting. After getting a cup of coffee, I looked around for a spot. Sitting at a large table were four women. In front of each of them was a beautifully illustrated book that looked very much like an advent study guide or a Bible study. Intrigued by what they were discussing, I sat down at a two-person table nearby…
There were a lot of piles, lots of packing, and much movement. There were a lot of boxes, lots of paper and several mountains of bubble wrap, People were hauling and hustling about. But it was not Christmas, it was another moving day.
It was one of many moving days. There had been more than we could count over the years. Our belongings would get shifted and packed, unpacked, and packed again.
