All We Really Are Is…
…Dust In The Wind. All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see. God made us from the dirt of the earth..so let us never exalt ourselves above anything, because as long as we are in a body of flesh, we are nothing but dust. We are only something when we are in Christ, and when we keep our hearts for Him. We are only something because God is everything! And without Him, we are nothing but dust…dust in the wind…
Do we complain about the things we do not have? Do we complain about the things we ‘do’ have? What right have we to complain when we look around at what other people suffer, and look at how bad it could be? We want, but have not, because we ask amiss that we may consume it upon our lusts (greed)! Who are you, oh man? And who am I? There will always be someone who has it worse, and someone who has it better…but in the end…does it even matter? When all we are is dust in the wind, and everything we have here, also dust…quickly blown away just as easily as it drifted in.
Who Am I?
Lyn Leahz, ©2012
Your name is Elohei Elohim,
There is none like You throughout all the earth,
For You are All in All,
You are everything…
The wind does not blow against Your will,
The rain does not fall away from Your face,
Nothing is hidden from your sight.
I will not lie down to rest,
Without first seeking Your blessing,
and asking, “Have I pleased You, Lord?”
What if I slumber, and there was something I did not do?
When I awake, my lips shall give You praise,
For it is by Your mercy that breath enters and exits my nostrils,
It is by Your kindness that my heart continues beating,
And so it shall beat for none other than you, Adonai.
My eyes behold the beauty in Your brushstrokes,
The heavens painted with shades of sapphire,
The vast array of colors gently detailed throughout all of the earth,
And the sight of a newborn baby;
Your artwork can be witnessed everywhere.
Lord, I am nothing before You,
But a pile of earthen dust,
I was brought out of clay, dirt, and water,
Mixed together into mud.
And it was Your hands that sculpted my form,
And made me who I am,
I am unique and different, for I possess my own intricate puzzle,
The code man has called DNA.
My name is written upon Your palm,
And You have held me near when I was rejected,
You have gathered me together,
When I was scattered in the wilderness;
Carefully, Your fingers knit me together,
and made me better than I was;
You have reached out before my enemies,
When they laughed and mocked and scorned,
And You have made a spectacle of them as You held me on high.
I am forever Your humble servant,
Please do with me as You will;
I am honored to be Your child,
And I am brought low before Your throne.
Who are You?
Who am I?
I am one small gust of air from within your lungs.
A speck of debris on the tip of Your finger.
I am nothing, but in You, I am so much.
I am Yours. I am a child of the King of Kings;
and a servant of the Lord of Lord’s.
Forever rejoicing, I am all Yours!