Let’s Get Dusty

As Iron Sharpens Iron

Driving up that mountain road, with the breeze blowing through the trees and the creek crossing splashing crystal-clear water up on the jeep tires, we finally pulled up to the chapel. Opening my door to the crisp mountain air, my feet hopped into the dust of the path, the smell of God’s creation overwhelming my every sense. 

Let’s have some fun!

We had no idea what the weekend would hold.  A labor of love, these past six months, came to fruition in a matter of moments and is already gone! As I sit in the aftermath watching the dust continue to settle, I am amazed at what God did and is continuing to do.

A group of 103 warriors came together to refresh their souls and to get dusty in their Rabbi Jesus’ footsteps!

To be a disciple means walking so closely behind your Rabbi that the dust from His sandals settles on you.

Our world has some interesting ideas of what following Jesus looks like so…

We sat in God’s Word and looked at some foundational applications.  We took a step back and looked at what these foundational fundamentals truly mean and began to process how to apply them to our daily lives in a way that is full of proskuneó (worship, laying prostrate, blowing kisses to our King) instead of a daily check list to evaluate whether we were a good Christian today or not.

We re-evaluated what worship means and how the mundaneness of life can still be full of blowing kisses to our Savior Jesus.  We dug into why it is important to be in the Word and took some practical steps to figuring out how to read scripture and begin to understand with less frustration.  We also adjusted our perspective to ask Holy Spirit to guide us with His wisdom and to ask, “What does this tell me about God?”  instead of “what does this do or say about me?” as we read His Word.

I watched women come alongside each other and laugh, cry, and pray.  Lots and lots of praying. I sat in spots at meals where I could hear them connect and watch the tenderness of their hearts meet each other.  I watched eyes light up as one woman smiled and allowed another to pour into her. 

I, the speaker, lost my voice after the second talk and was lifted by woman after woman praying and calling on the power of God.  When it was time to stand up and speak, I had a voice, and not just a little voice but it burst forth into that microphone!  I stood before a room of women and shared how important the Bible is and how to tackle it one step at a time.  I walked outside and looked up and said “Thank” in full voice and “you” in the tiniest of whispers and then laughed as I praised God for moving.

The rest of the weekend this was the story, women surrounding me and showing me the power of prayer while holding me up and helping me physically take care of my body and vocal box.  I had a unique seat watching and listening. 

We had the cutest coffee shop with the most amazing baristas…handing women cups of coffee made with love and the words, “You get what you get, and you drink it” surrounded by the most beautiful smiles.  Dig deeper sessions where the facilitation was so well done, I was lost in the moment and caught up in all the incredible stories and thoughts. 

Sunday morning, I woke up not good at all but knew God would show up and what had been my least favorite talk became my favorite as I looked out at vulnerable eyes and talked about Jesus and the table.  How important community is and how we as women need other women of all generations.  A cup of coffee and time with Jesus!

I’m still reeling, still processing. I’m missing my time with my women.  I’m desperate for each warrior to continue steps, one, two, three, chasing their Rabbi Jesus. 

More stories come each day as we move further away from those moments on the mountain. 

And now, the dust has begun to settle—but I pray it never fully does.

Because getting dusty with Jesus isn’t just a weekend event on a mountain; it’s a daily invitation. It’s the slow, faithful steps we take in our ordinary lives, one, two, three—through dishes and diapers, meetings and messes—choosing to walk so closely with our Rabbi that His presence lingers on us like the dust of a dirt path.

This weekend wasn’t the end. It was a beginning. A spark. A reminder that we are not alone, and we were never meant to walk this road in isolation. We are iron sharpening iron, dusty-footed disciples who fall down and get back up—together.

So here’s to the women who worshiped, wept, poured out, and pressed in. Keep chasing Jesus. Keep blowing kisses to your King in the mundane. Keep lifting each other up, one prayer and one step at a time.

Let’s stay dusty.

Stacy