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From Dust to Dust - 

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the day we begin the Lenten season. I typically don’t care for Ash Wednesday much. It’s always been a little depressing, and as someone who’s been afraid of death since they were a kid, talking about my own mortality is not my favorite thing to do.

It’s always been more ritual than meaning for me. Having the ashes spread across my forehead is part of the routine, but not so much a part of me.

Yesterday, a friend of mine wrote a reflection on Ash Wednesday and spoke about the gift of being dust. When you can acknowledge and admit that you are dust - from it and destined for it - then you can receive life with more gratitude and Iive with more beauty and compassion.

In a strange way this really spoke to me. I tend to exhaust myself trying to perfect my life - my parenting, my ministry, my own being. I work hard, really hard, to make myself the best I can be. I’m lured by success and driven by a desire to achieve. And yet, I’m learning that this illusion that I live by, that I can make myself into what I want to be, in many ways becomes the source of all my disappointments and regrets. Because the truth is, I’m not in control. Try as I might, I can’t perfect my life or even protect my life. And for the first time on this year’s Ash Wednesday that admission became a huge sigh of relief.

I don’t have to work so hard. I am mere dust, and life is a mere gift. For me, to surrender to the dust that I am, gives me reprieve. It’s like a giant exhale that relieves all the tension in my body, and then my heart swells with gratitude. From dust I was formed. I was created. I was made. It’s a truth that makes me more tender, more compassionate, more loving.

As the ashes were imposed across my own forehead last night, for the first time I could say with conviction, “Thank you, God.” What a wondrous thing.

From dust you were formed, to dust you shall return.

Pastor Victoria