Escaping in the Dirt

Hiding behind the detached garage, in the narrow path of dirt between the back wall and the fence, was my sanctuary. Sitting in the cold dirt, I could escape from my troubled six year old world. My hand and a cup was all I needed.

There was something precious about that dirt. Taking the cup, I would build a road to travel, at least in my mind. Where was I going? I wanted to go home. Maybe it was the smell of the dirt. This reminded me of the first house where I remember living. It was a new house, with plenty of sand in the back yard. Grass was trying to grow in the hot Texas heat. In this house, I had my own room and a bed. It was in this house that I had a mom and a dad. This was before dad died in the car wreck, and mom left us.

Sometimes my roads would go over small hills, or in circles. There was something about seeing the dirt road that I had built, that gave me a temporary fix of calm. I guess it was sand therapy.

A few yards from where I was sitting, my sister and I tried to hide my aunt's wine bottles from her. My aunt was sister to my mom, and she was our latest "guardian." Guardian was one of the first big words I remember. One night my sister and I were caught by my aunt and one of her boyfriends putting her bottles behind the garage. My aunt was screaming, we were crying. The job of trying to protect my aunt from what was in those bottles was too big for my sister and me. My aunt drank most of the time. She also slept a lot, just like my mom did.

There was something about building my roads and playing in the dirt behind the garage, that gave me a moment of peace and hope. Maybe that was why Jesus played in the sand. A woman was caught in the act of adultery. Some dude was getting a poke who probably could care less about the woman, and she was the one who was about to get rocked. The religious leaders took this woman to Jesus so they could trap him. Jesus kneeled down and began playing in the sand. I wonder what the women was thinking when she saw Jesus looking down, playing in the dirt. She was about to be stoned for committing adultery.

I knew what adultery was before I really understood what sex was. My aunt and the man she worked for would go into her bedroom nude, while we occupied ourselves. Sometimes we would go to this man's house. His wife was always nice to us, and would fix us something to eat.

But what was this woman thinking when angry men surrounded her, wanting to stone her for doing it with some guy. She may have thought that her life was in Jesus' hands, which he was using to write in the dirt. Maybe he was building a road in the sand. Everyone seemed to calm down. Jesus sort of gave permission to the men for her to be stoned. He said for one who hadn't sinned to cast the first stone. No one qualified for bashing in the woman's brains. The men dropped the rocks and left. Jesus asked her, "Where are your accusers?" Her answer was that they split. Jesus said he wasn't going to convict her either and told her to "go and sin no more." What a break!

Jesus also used dirt to put on a blind man's eyes as he gave him his sight back. Jesus must have liked dirt. Mixed with his spit, he created a masterpiece on the man's eyes. I wonder what the blind man was thinking? Jesus told him to go wash it off in a certain place and he would be healed. Jesus made a dirt lover out of that blind man.

Maybe the next time there is going to be a big hairy meeting, with spit slinging around like a bull looking for a cow in heat, the meeting should be held in a sand pile. Everyone must sit in the sand so they can feel how cool it is. As issues are being raised, and tempers begin to flair, play in the sand. Build roads or houses or just play. Feel the sand and listen. This would definitely be a "down to earth" meeting. It is hard to feel powerful when you are playing in sand. That is what board rooms and offices with big desks and leather chairs are for. Maybe every office or church or school should have a sand pile!

Was Muhammed into dirt?