Covered in Dust

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

-Psalm 91:1

The Jews have a blessing they give to one another that says something to the effect of "May you get dusty by walking with your Rabbi." The thought is that you would walk so closely behind your teacher that you would get covered in the dust left by his steps. I think this is the place we are called to still, and I think this is what we as lovers and prophets of God are to do: to walk so closely with Jesus that we are hidden in His shadow. It sounds like a pretty intimate adventure with Him.

That seems to be what He is continually inviting me into when I wake. He turns and asks, "What is it you want?"

What is it I want? Is he serious? Are you ready for this, Teacher? Here goes... I am fractured; I want repaired. I am a ruin of what I was meant to be; I restored back into it. I am ash; I want to be all flame again. I am impotent of love and ignorant of life. I have lost the story, forgotten my role, made my bed in the depths of hell and opened my sheets to demons that have raped and plundered and stolen. I want found and healed, my wounds dressed by leaves from the tree of life. I want sheltered. I want to remember my true name – Sought After (Isaiah 62:12). The Pursued. The Found. The Son Who Returned Home. And I want more than this. I want character of heart – nobility and honor and dignity and strength. I want the new to be greater than the old could ever hope to become. I want to be dressed in white, purified as if I had never been a whore. No, more. Purified so that my having been a whore is not a shame or a burden, but what brings great glory to the Holy One who chose me, sought me out, ransomed me, and brought me to his side. I want to know this God like I have known no one in my life. I want to work alongside him as a comrade-in-arms, a friend, a fellow warrior in battle, a lover and a be-loved. I want his friends to be my friends. I want all of this. I want restored.

All of this swirls in my tired head, wearied of all hoping and striving toward this end. And then I see this One who asks the question, this One who seems to know all of this in me, and looking into His eyes as they pierce me I am brought to my knees in the agonizing hope that He might be the answer to all this biting and burning desire. I grasp for an answer, but my response is a stuttering and stammering and stupid reply, "Uh, wh- whe- where are you staying, Teacher?" If only I could be with Him, just be near to Him. I must.

He only smiles, his heart swelling with joy that He has caught my whole attention and with anticipation of what He has yet to show me. His reply is the invitation into Mystery and a life "that is the business of life," as George MacDonald put it. He says only, "Come, and I will show you." (See John 1:35-39).

And I am covered in his dust.