Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Dearest God,

Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent, a return to mortality. By nightfall I will carry the cross of Jesus on my forehead, a marking of my relationship to God. I will remember that I am dust and to dust I will return. I will form this sign on others as they are reminded that they too are not God, but rather human flesh and blood, in a perishable body.

This day in the Christian year is perhaps my most memorable one. For many years I have "celebrated" this holy day. It's a "stop dead in your tracks" kind of day, a recollection that time is limited, always was. I was never intended to live long in this decaying body. My spirit, a different matter. That indomitable spirit lives on and on and on. It is the substance of God that never dies.

I tend to forget who I am at times. Lent refreshes my memory, puts me in my place. At the feet of Christ. He who lives eternally calls to my ailing body, promising eternal life. But I don't have it here. I will surely die, just as I was designed. It's okay. I live God's plan as a finite being.

I will eat and drink with the Savior, then I will take on the cross. By tomorrow morning much of the dust will be gone. But I will continue to wear an invisible sign of the wooden instrument of death. God's gift of salvation. An incredibly high price was paid for me.

Following my diagnosis of breast cancer in 1997, I began to write a cancer journal. My writings revealed my ultimate trust in God. I was thankful to live; but more than that, I was grateful to be present with God. I learned how to walk with God moment by moment. Praise formed on my lips. As a response to God's radical love for me, I wrote every minister, all 96 in my district, the bishop and the cabinet, the staff of the South Indiana Conference. Each day in Lent I prayed for five, then wrote each one a card sharing my celebration with them and a prayer of love and healing for their families during the Lent season. A meaningful activity, it kept me close to the Savior of my soul and touched other lives as well.

I can't imagine going through the year without Lent, missing Ash Wednesday. I need these merciful reminders of my humanity and God's attempt to daily transform me. It is a Godsend to me.

Lent is a reminder of my life's greatest desire, one I have written in my personal covenant with God. I wish to be faithful, more than anything else in life. I want to be faithful in my living. I don't really need a dark cross on my forehead. I have worn one since the day I made my own confession of faith. I will die with it.

Eternal God,
my finiteness
is a gift of eternity.
I wear these mortal clothes,
remembering they are temporary.
I'll have new apparel in heaven.
I pray
that I will wear them well
here on earth.
I will surely misuse them,
forget they were given to me
by God.
But the Ash Wednesdays of my life
will call me back to the things temporary
'til I receive the immortality of my soul.
Today I will carry your cross.

Eternally grateful, Andrea