The Dust We Carry

In the days of the first disciples, to follow a rabbi meant more than sitting at his feet—it meant walking behind him. Step for step. Mile for mile. Through heat and hunger, across rough roads and uncertain paths, a disciple’s calling was simple but costly: to stay close enough that the dust kicked up from the rabbi’s sandals would cling to their own.

That dust told a story.

It marked where they had been, but more importantly, who they belonged to.

I often think about that image when my own walk with Christ feels complicated or weary. The truth is, following Jesus is rarely clean or convenient. It’s not the polished, filtered version of faith the world likes to see. It’s the raw, real kind—the kind that leaves you covered in dust from the road. The kind that exposes your weakness even as it deepens your trust.

“The dust we carry is not the sign of failure. It’s the sign of proximity.”

When we stay close enough to the Rabbi, His words begin to shape the rhythm of our steps. His compassion becomes our reflex. His courage, our conviction. And even when we stumble, His dust still clings to us as a reminder: we’ve been with Him.

That’s what true discipleship looks like—walking close enough to be changed by the journey.

The world will notice the dust before it notices the destination. They’ll see how you forgive differently. How you love when it costs you something. How you serve without seeking applause. That is the quiet evidence of nearness to Jesus.

Sometimes, that dust feels heavy. It carries the memories of where we’ve been—of trials endured, losses grieved, prayers unanswered. But it also carries traces of His presence: the grace that met us in failure, the mercy that lifted us from shame, the hope that would not let go.

The longer I walk this road, the more I understand: holiness isn’t about staying spotless. It’s about staying close.

So let the dust settle on your life. Let it remind you that your steps matter—that each one, no matter how uncertain, is marked by grace. Because if we’re walking close enough, the world won’t just see where we’ve been.

They’ll see Who we’ve been following.

— Rich Van Doorn