a Child of Dust

"As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him; for he knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust." Psalm 103

And then the words to the song:

"Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end!
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend."

I have never thought of myself as a child of the dust. A frail child. A dirty child. A worthless child. A child that needs removing.

He remembers I am dust. He formed me. To HIM I am a valuable child. A child worth dying for. A child He has given new mercies each day.

Perhaps a child of the dust isn't so bad after all.