Dust

 July 8, 2024

“For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.”     —Psalm 103:14 

I don’t like interruptions, but often when I go to read my Bible, something comes up that I can’t ignore, and before I know it, the day is almost gone and I haven’t slowed down enough to catch my breath, let alone get quiet before God. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this.

Almost without exception, all the saints we look up to have spoken of the importance of a regular time with God, where we shut out the distractions of this world so we can listen. It’s what Jesus meant when he said, “When you pray, go into your closet and shut the door…” God is not a cosmic bell boy, waiting for us to show up at our leisure. He is the One who beckons us come apart for awhile.

So it comes as no surprise to me that when the day starts with an unplanned trek to the doctor for an earache, then to the pharmacy for antibiotics, followed by a few other unexpected chores, when I finally am able to stop, it takes some real effort to slow down. My head is going in a half dozen different directions, getting ready for Men’s Bible study tonight, with another sermon for Sunday, my nightly meditation, what I write for my grandkids each night, and a few other matters that required my attention. Linda says, “You just need to be flexible.” I’m not.

So when I read this verse from Psalm 103, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. God knows. He knows our frailty, our limitations, all the things that we navigate in life. And because God not only knows, but loves, it will be OK. I don’t want to make a habit of it, but tomorrow is another day. I’ll do my best to start it with him, prepare my heart for the interruptions, and follow the sign that years ago graced my pastor’s desk: “Praise the Lord anyway!”