Ash Wednesday February 8, 2008

“Then Abraham spoke up again: Now that I have been so bold as to speak to the Lord, though I am nothing but dust and ashes.” Genesis 18:27

Okay, so I realize I’m a couple of days late in getting this post up but I just totally scrapped my original post in favor of something more personal. I’m just in that kind of mood right now.

I’m a Baptist, even though I grew up with some Episcopalian influence from my Dad’s side of the family and a Methodist Pastor in my mom. I kind of like that I’m mixed. The Episcopalian’s gave me real wine for communion, and a counter-balance from the real fundamental stuff I heard in Baptist Sunday school. The Methodist’s gave me an appreciation for social service in my community, and social justice globally. They always supported me in prayer, and encouraged my mission work overseas. And the Baptist’s gave me a love for Bible study, Hymns, a way to apply God’s word into my daily life, and the fellowship with other Christians I really need in my life.

Make no mistake, not one denomination is perfect. None of us are. Each come with their own set of questions, doubt, and even hypocrisy. It wasn’t until I was older, when my faith became my own, that I realized that God is the only perfect part of the equation. The church, even though Christ’s bride, is imperfect because its filled with imperfect humans. But the influence of each church and congregation, flaws and all, have helped to guide, protect, and shape my faith and who I am. My faith is very important to me. I was raised in church but spent my years of college away from church, with the exception of being a Chreaster of course. I know what my life is like without faith and I don’t ever want to go back. That’s not to say I don’t have moments of frustration, doubt, and even anger. I do, believe me. That’s sort of the reason for this post.

I lost my Dad before New Year’s. He had just turned 60. Not to be dramatic, but I still think I’m in a state of shock. It’s hard to fathom, comprehend, and imagine some days. Others, I just don’t want to get out of bed. I’m trying to live my life in a new town, a new school but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to put on a happy face….especially since everywhere I turn lately I see my Dad. If there was one thing I did to make my Father proud, it was following him to Athens. It’s just a little ironic that I move back here 2 weeks before he passed away. I just assumed he would’ve experienced this with me.

I’m not angry or bitter at God though; I just don’t understand why. I probably never will. I am angry, no question. I’m pissed if you wanna know the truth. I’m disappointed in myself for not being a better daughter. I’m ashamed that I’ve taken that anger out on others, especially someone really close to me. And I’m frustrated that I can’t seem to figure out what to do next, where to go from here, etc., on my own. I’m just not happy, no matter what I do. I’m miserable a lot and I’m sick of it. The only thing I know to do is turn to God. I’ve been doing this all along, but not enough apparently. I’m holding onto stuff that’s beginning to eat me alive. I’ve seen what bitterness and resentment can do to a person and I refuse to let that happen to me. So I called the only old friend I have in Athens and decided to go with her to the Ash Wednesday service at her church, First Baptist. I was a little late, but am so glad I went. It was beautiful, solemn, and carthartic for me.

Ash Wednesday service is one of my favorite worship services of the year. If you’ve never been, you should go, if only to experience it once. The Lenten and Easter season mean more to me than Christmas, which is saying a lot. It’s just such a cleansing time and an opportunity to prepare your heart for Holy Week. Ash Wednesday for me is symboilc, but so purposeful. It’s when I can approach the altar in true repentance, seeking forgiveness for my sins and let go of past wounds. The struggle for me this year is that I haven’t held up my end of the bargain. I went to the alter Wednesday night and was marked with the sign of the cross from the ashes of last year’s palms. Yet I left there without leaving my biggest burdens. I sought to be forgiven, but wasn’t ready to forgive in return. That’s pretty selfish & arrogant, considering it’s really all God has asked of me, you know?

“And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
who trespass against us.” Luke 11:4

I can’t go back to the altar during Holy Week and certainly not on Easter Sunday without obeying what little God has asked of me. I can’t go back to Him seeking grace & mercy for my life without first being willing to extend the same to others. And I can’t go back to worship my risen Lord & Saviour with a heart of anger. No way.

WWJD. That’s been on my mind the last couple of days. What would Jesus do with me right now? Don’t answer that. Seriously though, that’s the question I’ve been asking myself…. What would He do? What is He asking me to do? How do I get from where I am right now to where I need to be, where He wants me to be? I don’t know, but I know how to find out.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be open to you.” Matthew 7:7

One of the most interesting parts of the season of Lent is it’s length - 40 days. Forty days from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday, excluding sabbaths. The number of days Moses was on Mt. Sinai in the presence of God (Exodus 24:18). The period that Noah was adrift on the ark (Genesis 8:6). The duration of Elijah’s journey to hear God’s voice (1King 19:8). And most importantly, the exact amount of time Jesus spent in the wilderness (Mark 1:13) after His baptism.

If it worked for Moses, Elijah, Noah, and Jesus then it will surely be sufficient for me. So, this Lent I have more than one sin to absolve. Who am I kidding? Let’s face it, I’ve got more than I care to count! But for this season in my life I’m choosing to focus on setting myself free. Free of the anger, guilt, resentment, bitterness, and shame that’s weighed me down lately.  Free to move forward and rejoice in the blessings I have, not mourn for the ones I’ve lost. And free to truly love & cherish those who love & cherish me.

I know that I won’t be leaving church on Easter Sunday fully and completely healed of my Dad’s death. That’s gonna come eventually, but not any time soon. I know that. But I also know that when I leave the altar on Easter I’ll be a lot closer to the grace & mercy I so desperately seek and want to extend to others, than I am right now.