We see it and wrinkle our nose. We see it and grab a rag. Sweep it away. Suck it into our vacuums. Make it disappear.
Because dust means dirt. Dust means allergies. Dust means neglect. And we want those things to go away.
The title of this post is the title of a song. Have you listened to it? It’s called Beautiful Things, by Gungor.
The chorus goes like this:
You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of us.
I’m obsessed with it. The melody is beautiful. The words, even more so.
But mostly, I’m obsessed with it because I want this truth to saturate my stories. Each and every one. The breath-taking, awe-inspiring, mind-blowing truth that Christ can make beautiful things out of the dust.
He redeems the utterly broken. Breathes new life into the forgotten.
I recently got the content edits for my contracted novel, Beneath a Velvet Sky. In case you’re not a writer, content edits are the first of many edits authors go through when they work with a publishing house. These are the big, comprehensive edits. One of the questions my editor asked had to do with my main character’s career.
Bethany is an architect.
My editor wanted to know why. She wants my readers to know why, too.
Because I didn’t choose this career for her randomly. I didn’t throw a bunch of jobs in a hat and pluck out architect. I had a reason.
Bethany wants to design big and beautiful things. She wants to associate herself with grandeur. She wants to put her name on impressive creations. To be able to point to them and say, “See that over there? I made that.”
Only she’s stuck in renovations, and renovating old buildings isn’t what she had in mind when she signed up to be an architect.
This isn’t random either.
Because God wants to show Bethany something. He wants to show her how much renovation matters to Him. He wants to show her that He’s in the business of renovation too.
He wants to show her that He can take the filthy, neglected, unbeautiful things of this world and make them beautiful. Make them new.
Like a situation.
Or a heart.
Or a life.
He renovates them every single day. Every single hour.
He wants to renovate hers.
He wants to renovate ours.
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 being.
Let’s Talk: Have you witnessed God’s renovation? In what ways has He renovated you?
*Picture by Mat and Ravi