Dust Disguised as Us

I am not worthy.

It must be said before

we go any further,

lest we trespass,

lest we step shod

on Holy Ground.

Still, I am what I am:

dust disguised as us.

You take the willing —

this is the word I’ve heard.

Because for fools like me,

like you, like us,

the hunger for You

is artfully interwoven,

carefully threaded through our marrow.

The very ability to recognize You,

to hunger and thirst for You,

to know when we have found You,

to circle You with every moment,

to learn the difference between us and You.

Even in our failures,

when we want to hide,

to pretend we didn’t screw up,

that we knowingly, willingly

sacrificed our time on another altar,

shallow in Love’s substance.

Especially in our failures,

that is when we finally allow You

to answer our prayers.

It begins in the heart:

good and evil both.

We cannot help but reveal what we are

when observed in Your light.

And what we are,

dusted and broken,

is yet beloved.