“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” -Genesis 2:7 (NIV)
Hey, you. Yeah, you—reading this right now, on March 21, 2025, with the world spinning wild and beautiful outside your window. Can I tell you something? You’re made of dust. I know, I know, it doesn’t sound like a compliment at first. Dust is the stuff we sweep off the shelf, the gritty bits we try to shake out of our rugs. But stick with me here—because this dust thing? It’s actually the most stunning, mind-blowing thing about you.
Think about it. The Scriptures, those ancient, poetic pages, tell us in Genesis that God scooped up the earth—mud, dirt, dust—and breathed into it. Breathed. Like a divine exhale, a holy wind, filling the ordinary with the extraordinary. And that’s you. That’s me. That’s all of us walking around today, carrying coffee cups and chasing deadlines and wondering if we’re enough. We’re dust with breath in it, animated by something sacred, something alive.
So here’s the question I’ve been wrestling with lately: What if the dust still sings? What if that original breath hasn’t stopped echoing through us? I mean, look at your life for a second. The way you laughed with a friend yesterday, the way you paused to notice the sky turning pink this morning, the way you keep showing up even when it’s hard—that’s not just random. That’s the song of the dust, the melody of a Creator who doesn’t give up on what He’s made.
Sometimes I think we forget this. We get caught up in the noise—scrolling X, scrolling social media apps on our phones, chasing the next big thing, worrying about what’s broken in the world or in us. And trust me, there’s plenty broken. You don’t need me to list it out; you’ve seen it, felt it. But here’s the twist: What if the brokenness isn’t the end of the story? What if it’s just the place where the breath gets louder?
Jesus—this guy who walked around kicking up dust of his own—kept saying things like, “The kingdom of God is near.” Not far off, not locked away in some perfect future, but near. Like, right here, in the mess, in the dust. He ate with outcasts, touched the untouchable, and told stories that flipped everything upside down. And every time he did, it was like he was saying, “Listen, the song’s still playing. You’re still part of it.”
So today, I wonder—what’s your dust singing? Maybe it’s a quiet tune, a little shaky, because you’re tired or scared or just not sure what comes next. That’s okay. The breath doesn’t stop when we falter; it carries us. Or maybe your dust is belting out something bold today—hope, defiance, love. That’s the beauty of it: the song shifts, but it never quits.
Here’s what I’m learning, and maybe it’s for you too: You don’t have to have it all figured out for the dust to sing. You don’t have to be flawless or fearless or “fixed.” You just have to let the breath move through you. That’s faith, isn’t it? Not a perfect performance, but a willingness to lean into the melody, to trust that the One who started the song isn’t done with it yet.
So, wherever you are today—whether you’re soaring or stumbling—take a deep breath. Do you feel that? That’s the holy wind still at work, stirring the dust, calling you alive. You’re part of something vast and good and unbroken, even when it doesn’t feel like it. The world’s a mess, sure, but it’s a mess with a pulse. And so are you. So, perhaps like the song, He’s calling you to “Come Alive Dry Bones.”
What if you lived like that today? Like the dust in you is still singing?
What might happen? I don’t know exactly, but I bet it’d be beautiful. I bet it already is.
Breathe it in.
Grace and dust,
-Pastor Scott.
Pastor's Ponderings 
I live this! I meant to type “love” but I actually do “live” this. One of my spiritual disciplines over the last several years had been to sing a Psalm each morning to the Lord. I was assigned JOY to speak on a couple years ago during our advent series and as I was studying, it struck me how often joy and singing are paired and how often we’re commanded to sing to the Lord. It’s been transformational! The intimacy and trust that I’ve developed as I open my mouth and trust His breath to bring me a tune! And He delights in my song even when it’s just a joyful noise!
My son has Down syndrome, and when He was younger he used to crawl in bed with me and would often sing, “You are so beautiful to me”. His singing wasn’t always tuneful, but it brought me such joy! He’s older now, but I often overhear him singing to his “Abba”. I’m a single, adoptive mom, but when God called me to this incredible journey He promised to walk with us and He always has.
As far as the dust part, a few years back I was at a women’s Bible study where we didn’t have a leader or curriculum. We would simple choose a passage, go off and spend some time (lectio divina style) with it and come back and share and pray. One morning we were studying the parable of the soils and I felt like God was saying you’re just the dirt. Not in a negative way, but in a way that freed me from the pressure of having to strive to produce fruit. I simply receive the seed and trust the Farmer and the process. Even if I’m not the good soil, dirt doesn’t change itself, the farmer has to remove the rocks or thorns or soften the hard ground. Goes with my word for this year, SURRENDER, and my verse, Ps 46:10A (NASB) “Cease striving and know that I am God;”
Thanks for your pondering. I enjoy your blog and feel like God has us on a similar journey.