IN THIS LESSON
Before we delve into today, let’s look back to Monday.
Ladies, just a couple of days ago I asked you why you want to learn about Lent and meditate on its themes of prayer, fasting, and giving. Did you come up with an answer?
I know that not all of you have Roman Catholic backgrounds. In fact, I think just two of the beautiful women who initially opted in for this devotional can even relate to crosses drawn in ashes and dry holy water bowls. ♥️
But did the list of longings resonate with any of you?
If nothing else, I hope that you read Jeremiah 29.
And now… moving on to TODAY!
What is Ash Wednesday all about?
Let’s start out with some basics before we move into checking our heart and soul connection.
Ash Wednesday is the first official day of Lent.
In the early Christian Church, before the 8th century, this was something that only certain people were required to follow. Those who were not fit to receive Communion would wear sackcloth—think a super rough cloth that itched and was generally uncomfortable, got ashes sprinkled on them, and separated themselves from the rest of the church community until Holy Thursday (also known as Maundy Thursday).
Today, Lent isn’t just for the few people who have really messed up. It’s for everyone.
If you choose to get ashes rubbed on your forehead this year, it will be the ashes from palm leaves burned back in 2024! Just think about it… the palm branches meant to glorify Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem are now a call for all of us to repent from the sins in our lives.
A Deeper Look at the Ashes
You may hear the words, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” when or if you receive ashes this year. Do those words remind you of anything?
Take a look at this verse from Genesis:
“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” (Genesis 2:7 NIV).
This is where I want to delve into the heart and soul connection that I mentioned up above.
Yes, the ashes are a visible sign to anyone who sees you on Ash Wednesday, but they can be much more!
When you have ashes rubbed on your forehead it’s a chance to focus your mind on the reality that your body will not survive indefinitely. We are all going to die, and our bodies will slowly decay and turn to dust. If you choose cremation it’ll just happen more quickly. 🤨 I’m sorry if that seems dark or grotesque, but it’s true.
As a Christian, death does not need to be a horrifying part of life. The process of creation that I have read in the Word of God shows me a starting point (dust), and my flesh-focused awareness has also shown me an ending point (dust).
When we realize that God created us from dust, and that our bodies will one day return to that dust, it can bring our minds full-circle. Yes, our bodies return to that start, but our souls will also return to that start.
Look back up at Genesis 2:7 and answer this question: How did life enter the body?
As a Christian, you know that your life began when God created it—He literally breathed it into your tiny form. I am no theologian, ladies, but the cyclical nature of life pulls me in and calls me to meditate on the path that each of our souls can take!
When you have ashes rubbed on your forehead it is also a time for you to take a spiritual inventory. Don’t you think you’re more apt to get real about repentance when you are reminded that this life isn’t going to last forever?
This Ash Wednesday is a tangible reminder of the cross that Jesus died on…
through the ashes drawn in the mark of a cross on my forehead.
from the palm leaves that waved high in the air amid shouts of “Hosanna!”
While I may not be wearing a sackcloth or separating myself from my church family, I will use Ash Wednesday to meditate on the dust that I came from, the Lord God who made me, and repenting from the sins that flow out of my heart each day. Allow the symbolism of ashes to really move you. Let’s get real with ourselves, and maybe an accountability partner, on what we need to repent of in our hearts and minds.