Last year’s green palms are dry in a vase in my mudroom next to my cattails and milkweed. Now, as I take the palms, they are so brittle, they will burn hot. After the ash cools, it is silky-smooth and slippery. The priest marks my forehead with the ash in a sign of the cross and says, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” I nod.
Dust.
Today’s prayers…familiar petitions…cause me to hear anew. Did I just read make a Holy Lent? The word…holy…sends me off on a journey. A journey of listening for God in the quiet moments and during the chaotic.
I chant the words of today’s psalm in my head, while saying them in unison with those around me, bonding me to those here as well as to those long dead. And that history is the pure beauty of The Book of Common Prayer because these words unite generations throughout time. I nod. I like that.
“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Finally, marked as Christ’s own from my baptism and confirmation, I still my mind to listen more deeply — to hear the words of the Holy Spirit in all the work God has given me to do until my death.
Lenten Calendar Suggestion
Ask someone,
“How are you?”
and listen to their answer.