He Remembers That We Are Dust

Step on an ant or a beetle.  Crunch!
Swat a mosquito, and get blood on your hand.
Swat a fly with force, because it requires some smashing.

But swat a moth?
You barely have to touch it.
It doesn't leave a blood stain on the wall.
It practically turns to dust.

That always amazes me.  Moths are so dry.  There's nothing to them.  They are so easy to do away with.  And they're like powder.  Like dust.

"He knows our frame.  

He remembers that we are dust" (Ps 103).

The Lord remembers that we are dust.

But we don't. We think we've got substance.  We think we've got strength.  We think we've got lasting-power.  We think it takes somethin' big to knock us out.

But we are dust.
And the Lord is gentle with us dry dusties.

"As a father pities his children, 

so the Lord pities those who fear Him."