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Ash Wednesday, Reflection

Lord, do I really have to go back to the ashes


Must I put on the mantle of remembering my sin,


Isn’t it more humble of me to forget what was,


Could I be divine for a day instead of dust,

Once more?

Must repentance and dying to myself have to come around every. year,

Like this?

Couldn’t my winter of mourning pass without this exercise of my soul?

Could we just settle into the oil of gladness?

The mantle of praise, the garlands of beauty and the slowing down of time?

Instead of the fasting

The fasting

The fasting

The ashes

It seems like yesterday I begged off all the crumbs of my vices

Trying to feebly bear a cross of my own doing

Wear a cross of my own making

Tousle my hair over the cross-ness of my forehead

And pretend to not be hungry

When I was famished for all my sins

It seems too soon to have to forgive my brother

Love the other

Resist my druthers

Ashes seem so gray

So mid-week Wednesday

So counter-intuitive to The Way

You walked triumphant out of the grave

But I must--

Sit in the sorrow

Of my sin

Must grieve and lament,


I must die with you to new life,


And I must walk the way of the Cross,

In Passion

To remember the Lord’s death until He comes

Is not for the faint of heart.

It is not for the proud.

It is not for the rich, the Pharisee or the Ninety-nine.

To remember the Lord’s death until He comes

Is for the woman at the well.

It is for the widow, the tax collector and the one.

Yes, it’s for me.

I really do have to go back to the ashes today, Lord

I must put on the mantle of remembering my sin, again

My humility is remembering the wretched soul I was, before

And being dust for a day, the most blessed trade off to eternity's immortality

I know You will

Slow down time and give beauty for these ashes

I know You will lift praise to this mourning

And be Bread to my hunger

When this day ends and this season You’ve lent us

Gives way to dawn

I know I will see You on the clouds

High and lifted up

Resurrected to new life

And the seedling You planted in me

Will grow

In the ashes of mourning

In the soil of repentance

In the rich, brown earth of a new grave of humility

—An oak of righteousness—-

Glory, to God.

I’m going back to the ashes today, Lord.

Have mercy on me, a sinner.

10:37 pm

2 March 2022

To grant those who mourn in Zion,

Giving them a garland {beauty} instead of ashes,

The oil of gladness instead of mourning,

The mantle of praise instead of a disheartened spirit of fainting. heaviness, despair,

So they will be called oaks of righteousness,

The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.

Isaiah 61:3

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Cary Valdes
Cary Valdes
03 de mar. de 2022

Truly beautiful

12 de mai. de 2022
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Thank you for reading. ❤️

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