grayscale photography of space

Lent: dust to dust

Today is Ash Wednesday. On this day I am reminded of Genesis 3:19b and Ecclesiastes 3:20

19b you are dust,
        and to dust you shall return.

20 All go to one place, all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again.

Genesis 3:19b, Ecclesiastes 3:20 NRSVue

To be honest I haven’t given much thought to Lent this year. All of the past year has felt like a lent of sorts… a loss… a grief… a mourning. I also haven’t given it much thought because I do believe that these seasons are meant to be practiced in community… and that is the main thing I am lacking. But I guess today is not too late to start. Lent is a journey, not a destination. Right?

As I reflecting on my dust-ness, the truths of those passages hit differently.

There’s almost a comfort in them. An invitation to rest from striving. To “give up” worry and anxiety about the future. That is what I hear.

In the present, there’s a part of me that really longs for significance. I want my life to mean something and my work to be meaningful. Yet without knowing where I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to do, I’m left in suspense. I want to resolve that suspense. I want to answer my own longing before I fade away. But that would just lead to more restless busyness. I don’t need that. I don’t want that. In my reflection I am reminded of another word:

    15 As for mortals, their days are like grass;
        they flourish like a flower of the field;
    16 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
        and its place knows it no more.
    17 But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting
        on those who fear him,
        and his righteousness to children’s children,
    18 to those who keep his covenant
        and remember to do his commandments.

Psalm 103:15-18 NRSVue

As I “start” this Lenten season, perhaps I am being called to “give up” worry and allow the LORD’s everlasting-to-everlasting to love to free me to love others. I hope I can love well despite my inability to fully give up worry. Though I haven’t given it much thought I hope I’ll be different at the end of it — that I’ll be in a different place than I am now.