Here is God with dust on his feet

With us, the children he came to meet.

Sitting on the ground,


I need his laugh and his accepting smile,

I think I’ll stay with him for a while.

Sitting on the ground


Dust on his hands, and sunlight in his hair

The great I Am, close, the one who is there,

Seeing all of me.


Eternally laughing, gentle, and kind,

With him, I don’t ever need to hide,

Seeing all of me.


He writes secretly in the dust for me

The birds sing, he’s my space to breathe.

He doesn’t throw stones.


Reaching to love me and to restore,

He draws me in, I’ll sit some more.

He doesn’t throw stones.


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