Happy Ashentine's Day

I have ashes on my forehead and wine chilling in the fridge

Earlier this afternoon at my church’s Ash Wednesday service we were invited to observe a holy Lent. We confessed, received ashes on our foreheads, heard words of encouragement for our community in transition from our priest, spoke the litany of penitence, and circled the communion table offering one another the bread of heaven.

Our closing hymn “Again We Keep This Solemn Fast” included these lyrics: “More sparing, therefore, let us make / The words we speak, the food we take.” Not words I wanted to hear after committing last month to write a poem a day for one year, and to share that poetry on my personal Facebook page. Not words I wanted to hear while I beelined to Safeway to buy strawberries and cake (gluten-free for me, cheesecake for my husband) for dessert tonight.

For centuries people have faith have been admonished to be in the world and not of it, to be wise to the world’s ways and remain innocent of succumbing to its temptations. Much, much easier said than done.

Purchasing swanky desserts (we usually have rice cakes with peanut butter and a few chocolate chips) to share with my husband tonight offered me the opportunity to reflect on how miraculous it is that two ordinary people, made of dust if you will, have been one another’s valentine since 1981. Like all humans, we’ve been reminded of our mortality again and again over the decades. And my husband has literally sifted through the ashes that raging wildfires left of his sisters’ homes. We know that we are dust, and are sometimes all to aware that to dust we shall return.

And so I bagged up my groceries with gratitude for my husband, and for the family we have created. Human relationships are where we live out our faith, where we place our hope, where we channel our love, where we both give and receive forgiveness. They demonstrate our beliefs, rather than distract from them. And repentance isn’t renunciation. It’s a call to turn away from empty choices (how many games of solitaire do I need to win on that app?) and toward what is truly life-giving. So on this Ashentine’s Day I’ve got ashes on my forehead and wine chilling in the fridge.

And before I sign off, in recognition of all those relationships out there that are better consigned to the past tense, here’s a poem I wrote as part of my daily practice, inspired by this sight at Tumwater Falls park earlier this month.

LOVERS FASTEN LOCKS

The lovers fasten locks
chain-linked declarations
of permanent devotion
giving passersby pause
as ringless hands forage
empty pockets feeling
for cold metal keys
that once belonged
to hearts long ago
given and gleaming gold
only to become old
discarded or misplaced
by memory rusted shut.