Thursday, March 3, 2022                                          (today’s lectionary)
Stories from our Ash Wednesday
I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live.
Miles was nearing the top of a fountain made of flat rocks at a nearby church yesterday. The rocks were climbable, barely. Jasper had climbed them an hour earlier, until I made him stop.
When Miles was standing with his feet just at the level of my eyes, he said, “It’s kind of scary, now that I’m up here.” I kept my hands close while he carefully made his way back down.
Back on the ground he joined Jasper and they ran like crazy all over the front patio of the church. Jasper was just full of his after-nap energy. But Miles, I think, was very glad to be alive.
Love the Lord, your God, heed his voice and hold fast to him. For that will mean life for you, a long life to live on the land given to you by the Lord.
Those boys are like trees planted near running water. They sway in the breeze, but they don’t break. They yield their fruit, their leaves do not fade. Their parents are teaching them to hope in the Lord. We are overjoyed to be along for the ride.
In the morning, Jasper stirred up the eggs, milk and cream for Margaret’s quiches, as well as her cheesy monkey bread and banana cupcakes. He has his own hand beater, and he’s getting pretty good with it, although he isn’t sure yet whether to use his left hand or his right.
After our naps we headed over to the Hill Country Bible Church ARTpact exhibit and met our artist friend Sheryl, along with Miles and Andi. The curator for the art show met us at the door, and we spent an hour absorbed in paintings, photographs, word art, sculpture … all displayed under lights and on gallery boards.
Well … the adults were absorbed. Miles and Jasper ran up and down the hall, and both of them were fascinated by the big boy’s bathroom. Miles is helping Jasper learn how to use the facilities, as Jasper slowly sheds his dependence on diapers. There was even a stool for Jasper to stand on.
What a fitting way to prepare for Ash Wednesday’s service, humbled by bathroom exploits, awestruck by paintings and photographs, caught as always between dust and glory. At St. Michael’s Episcopal we moved forward for the imposition of ashes, and the priest spoke over us:
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
And in this most beautiful of Christian liturgies, we knelt and prayed:
Most holy and merciful Father: we confess to you and to one another, and to the whole communion of saints in heaven and on earth, that we have sinned by our own fault in thought, word, and deed; by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.
The Litany of Penitence continued, ended, and the priest spoke forgiveness over us. We dipped our bread in the wine, and at last we prayed together:
Almighty and everliving God, we thank you for assuring us in these holy mysteries that we are living members of the Body of your Son, and heirs of your eternal kingdom. And now, Father, send us out to do the work you have given us to do.
(Deuteronomy 30, Psalm 1, Matthew 4, Luke 9)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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