We came from it.
We will one day return to it.
No wonder it holds such a fascination for me. I think about it as I work in my large garden.
So many terms for it: dirt, dust, earth, soil, all meaning about the same thing. It makes a mess of floors and clothing. Mixed with water it turns to mud, perhaps the most irritating substance known to man.
But it brings us life.
Without it there would be no gardens, no fields, no trees, no water cycle. As long as we live on earth we must toil in the dirt for our living. I enjoy it.
The earth yields fruit in a process of mystery that man will never fully comprehend.
It reminds me what I really am -- and what I used to be. My once-filthy clothes are now washed in the blood of the Lamb. And I look forward to the day when the dusty road ends and I move to a place where the pavement is gold. There will still be a tree, with fruit on it. But I have a feeling we will say goodbye... to dirt.
The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one.