We forget sometimes that ashes come from fire,
That this soft black powder was once a firm green frond,
Bright and vibrant before it became dry and brittle,
Stiff and fibrous before a flame transformed it into dust.
Every living thing submits to change.
Let’s not fear it.
From seed to plant, palm to ash,
This bit of the earth smudged on our foreheads today
Was carried lovingly in the hands of the Creator.
What fires will we step into this Lent?
What new forms will our souls take
When we encounter the holy blaze of the Living God?
We are—it is true—ash to ash and dust to dust,
But whether in youth or in old age, in life or in death,
Let us be assured,
We are held, and we are God’s.
Amen
