"The Breath in the Clay" - 02/24/2026

I was driving down along 4th Avenue and thinking about how much our North Dakota winters actually feel like the Lenten season. Sometimes it feels like we’re just waiting and waiting for a sign of green, doesn't it? It reminded me of a thought I’ve been dwelling on lately regarding the beauty of "small beginnings." Even when everything looks frozen and still outside the church windows, there is a holy work happening under the surface. I wanted to share these thoughts with you today as we walk this path together.

Scripture
"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." — Genesis 2:7 (NIV)
Reflection


Reflection
The Lenten journey begins with the humble reminder of the earth. To be human is to be fashioned from the common soil, a truth captured in the Hebrew word אֲדָמָה (adamah, ground or red earth). There is a profound peace in acknowledging this connection to the dust. It strips away the need for pretense or the heavy burden of perfection. In the stillness of a winter morning, the soul recognizes its own fragility, seeing itself not as a self-made monument, but as a vessel formed by the hands of a Master Potter. This recognition is not meant to diminish, but to ground the spirit in the reality of its dependence upon the Divine.

Within this clay, however, resides the miraculous. The breath of God, the נְשָׁמָה (neshamah, breath or spirit), is the animating force that transforms dust into a living soul. It is a quiet, rhythmic grace that continues with every inhalation. In the Korean tradition, there is a deep appreciation for 숨 (sum, breath), the vital force that connects the physical body to the spiritual realm. To breathe deeply is to participate in the ongoing act of creation. During these forty days, one is invited to notice the miracle of the lungs expanding and contracting. Each breath is a silent prayer, a constant "yes" to the life that God provides.

There is a sacred mystery in the way the Eternal chose the lowliest of materials to house the most divine of gifts. This juxtaposition of dust and spirit defines the human condition. It suggests that holiness is not found by escaping the earth, but by hallowing it. The cold Minot wind may bite at the skin, yet the warmth of the indwelling Spirit remains constant. This season of reflection encourages the heart to find God in the ordinary elements of existence. It is found in the grit of the soil, the moisture of the mist, and the warmth of a shared sigh.

As the journey continues toward the cross, the focus remains on the simplicity of being. There is no need for grand gestures or complex theories. There is only the clay and the breath. In this space of holy simplicity, the soul finds rest. The frantic pace of the world slows down to match the steady pulse of the Creator. It is a time to honor the origin and the destination, knowing that both are held within the expansive love of God. The dust is not a sign of end, but a reminder of the foundational love that first reached down to the earth to bring forth life.


Prayer
Creator of the Stars and the Soil, thank You for the gift of this breath. In the quiet moments of this day, let the heart remember its humble beginnings and its heavenly hope. May the warmth of Your Spirit thaw any coldness within, and may the soul rest deeply in the knowledge that it is both dust and divine. Amen.