to reflect
to remember
we are dust
to dust
we shall return
but not
just dust
beloved dust
dust of stars
dust holding
Imago Dei
to be dust
is not what
once was believed
unworthy
sinful from birth
beyond hope
cause of a son's death
we are dust
to dust
we shall return
dust of creation
dust breathed
into life
dust given hands
and feet
dust declared
very good
dust that birthed
the incarnate one
Karen Coverette from her blog
Last year I wrote the poem above about my Ash Wednesday thoughts.
This year, as I walked forward to receive ashes on my forehead, I had those thoughts in my head, but I also thought of my mom, her body recently cremated and turned into ash.
Ashes and dust seem an odd place to find courage and yet, that's exactly what I found in that moment. Life is fleeting. We don't know how or when it ends. But the saints who have gone before, even the ones whose lives were simple and ordinary, they remind me that each simple ordinary life lived with love transforms the world around them.
My mom and her mom, my grandma, led simple ordinary lives. They bloomed where they were planted and they left a legacy of love, quietly lived out in their day to day moments. In the current chaos of the world, I can get overwhelmed trying to figure out how I can make things better, but ashes and dust keep me grounded and remind me to keep doing the next thing that looks like the love they taught me