MCLANE: For when you feel like dirt

Published 5:00 am Friday, July 18, 2025

Holly McLane

A fine layer of daily farm dust lines each windowsill as I move throughout the house, opening shades and windows to capture even the slightest of evening breezes. I mutter again about how, next year, we should consider buying an air conditioning unit. I’m also breathing a silent thank you to the forestry technicians who are trenching by hand to outpace the wildfires in our region. I imagine that they liked the idea of working outdoors and far away from professors, exams and office work, only to feel trampled by the stifling heat and the harsh reality of it all.

So, too, is the young person sweating it out at a military outpost somewhere in the world or the kid mowing my lawn to earn money for a car. And let’s not forget the farmers frantically cutting, baling and hoping for enough water to do it all over again. 

The summertime heat has a way of reminding us that life is messy and complicated, revealing aspects of our human condition that, despite our best efforts, cannot be disguised.

Outward appearances can sometimes hide the muck that lives in the space between our ears or lies buried in our broken hearts and sometimes in the pit of our stomach, too – junk like grief, doubt, worry, regret and fear. But none of that should surprise us, because we also are made of dust, even though we pretend, like crazy, not to be. And when life gets turbulent, it can be hard to keep up the charade that we’re all fine, just FINE!

When was the last time you saw a rancher wearing a gown or tuxedo while driving cattle or fixing equipment? It seems absurd. And yet, we engage in all kinds of gymnastics to disguise or dress up our inward pain and panic.

So, just as we long to wash away the outer grit and grime of a hard day’s work, let us not forget to apply the same principle to our insides. The Creator already knows about our stuff and is keenly aware of the battle for every human heart but will never break down the door to start cleaning our inner houses. God enters by invitation only. No questions asked, ready and waiting to take us on a journey toward wholeness that’s as individual as every grain of sand stuck to the bottom of our boots. The choice lies solely with us. 

Holly McLane is a Powell Butte resident. She can be reached at mclanefarm@gmail.com.