ASH WEDNESDAY WITNESS

ASHES

(Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.)

He stands before her dressed in purple,
a sign of his priesthood and the Lenten Season,
in his hand, a small dish filled with ashes of palms
mixed with holy oil and water.
He traces his thumb in the black mixture
and marks her forehead
with the sign of the cross, reciting
ancient words meant to remind her of her mortality

but instead, like a bolt of lightning she remembers
her beginnings,
not the date of her birth,

but the origin of her material substance
billions of years ago
at the dawning of the ages.

She feels her feet rooted
in dirt
in time
in space.
She is child of Earth, as well as Spirit.

Most of her life she has been taught
her time here below is preparation for there above,
true life begins only at death -
taught

She is disconnected from the Holy One.
Creation is fallen.
Genuine joy comes only after this vale of tears.
Heaven is her real home.

But at this moment, marked with ashes,
under the sign of the Cross,
she experiences the delight of being human,
woven into the fabric of the New Creation Story,
connected with all that was and is and ever shall be,
all that has been for billions of years.
Creation is good.
So is she.

She knows -
she has been given
beauty for ashes.