It is the holy time of year again – though in truth, it is all holy and hallowed. But this time of remembrance is even more set apart. Quiet. Meditative. This time of surrender and sacrifice. Bending low beneath the shadow of his wings.
Fire and ash consecrate.
As we contemplate.
As we commemorate and consider all that has been done for us.
Grace upon grace – how much has come down – flowing in tears, and blood. How much has been given so that I can be forgiven?
Fire and ash consecrate.
As we contemplate.
As we commemorate and consider all that has been done for us.
And so I come to this time between times – to this time of anticipation – and decide what it is I will be surrendering; what I will be sacrificing; what it is I will lay down of my own accord; so I can take up the things that matter more: humility, compassion, kindness, and hope.
Fire and ash consecrate.
As we contemplate.
As we commemorate and consider all that has been done for us.
I do not always choose sacrifice. There are seasons where I am all too consumed with the immediacy and tyranny of the urgent. Caught up with the day to day. Distracted by the details of marking the passage of time. Overwhelmed by the busyness of doing – not dwelling enough in the practice of being. I choose this year – and it terrifies me. Choosing a small thing; the root of a larger thing; this thing that can effect actual heart change. I am afraid. I am afraid to believe.
Fire and ash consecrate.
As we contemplate.
As we commemorate and consider all that has been done for us.
Words. Voice. Mouth. They are not always an instrument for good. Or change. Or encouragement. So often my words drip with sarcasm. They pierce with criticism. They curse with fierce nihilism. There is emptiness in the cursing – a momentary release – and then regret. I want to lift this up. I want to hand this over. I need the strength of the rock that is higher. This hard thing. I want to find the brave strength bigger than the hard thing.
Fire and ash consecrate.
As we contemplate.
As we commemorate and consider all that has been done for us.
Turning eyes heavenward with my intention – praying already for grace and forgiveness for the falling down – I keep these words close as my prayer for forty days and beyond those days:
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14 ESV
Lord I believe. Help my unbelief.
This is my Ash Wednesday story. And I'm joining up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and the #TellHisStory crowd to share. Because every story matters.I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!
I am beginning this journey of Lent with you! Blessings to you as you press in. May He meet your every need as you sacrifice in search for the better things the Lord has for you this season. Love, Rachael @ Inking the Heart
ReplyDeleteLent
ReplyDeleteThat wonderful time of year where we are called to look deeply at our own failings. While every Friday is a "little Lent" with its little sacrifice, the season of Lent is a deeper calling where we journey with Christ for 40 days to commemorate His 40 days in the desert. 40 days when we concentrate even more on the figure of His crucified body which was racked with pain over our sins. Where we attempt to join our comparatively small sacrifice to His ultimate one. So, why is this wonderful?
Just as every "little Lent" on Friday is a preparation for the "little Easter" on Sunday. The season of Lent is a big preparation for the big celebration of the season of Easter. 40 days in a personal wilderness followed by 50 days of celebration that He is Risen!