He wrote in sand.
The canvas: dusty.
The picture: grim.
The message: grace.
Sand, the dust of the earth, out of which we were formed. And Jesus write in sand, the perfect canvas. Their secrets were dark, but He wrote them in sand. Thus He sculpted a powerful message. The story of their lives was not carved in rock, not proverbially set in stone. No, He wrote in sand. A medium so changeable, that a mere breath of wind could erase the letters. The tiniest wavelet could wash them away. It would be as if they had never been written.
And there the lesson solidifies.
The sins are written, yes.
But the canvas of your life is not stone.
It can be washed clean by the Blood.
Blown away completely by the Breath of Life.
The darkest history, erased.
There is mercy enough, and to spare.
And you can choose the new story He will write.
Not our past, but our God, defines us.
