"... and I pray a blessing on the fear, the ash, and the itch." What a beautiful piece! It seems you wove all the right lessons together in your lenten devotion :)
I grew up Catholic, lost the meaning of Ash Wednesday years ago, and thankfully, from my more contemplative stance now, I'm revisiting old traditions with more thoughtful eyes. This is a wonderful piece. I've got an essay or more brewing in my brain how homemade versions of church traditions are so much richer, more resonating with the participants. Thank you for wonderful work.
Another amazing piece; your writing is seriously on fire this year!
This is the 1st year I actually remembered to bring our old palms in for burning. I always forget, then say a prayer and put them in the compost or campfire. I think doing our own prayerful rituals is fine and good. Our priest yesterday is more of a "smudger" with the ashes than a conscientious cross-maker, so I was left with a gray oval on my forehead with which to recall my mortality.
"... and I pray a blessing on the fear, the ash, and the itch." What a beautiful piece! It seems you wove all the right lessons together in your lenten devotion :)
“Out of my hands into the warm and waiting palms of God.”
Love that.
This whole post was a very timely message - like the bow on the package of a conversation I just had this morning!
I grew up Catholic, lost the meaning of Ash Wednesday years ago, and thankfully, from my more contemplative stance now, I'm revisiting old traditions with more thoughtful eyes. This is a wonderful piece. I've got an essay or more brewing in my brain how homemade versions of church traditions are so much richer, more resonating with the participants. Thank you for wonderful work.
Another amazing piece; your writing is seriously on fire this year!
This is the 1st year I actually remembered to bring our old palms in for burning. I always forget, then say a prayer and put them in the compost or campfire. I think doing our own prayerful rituals is fine and good. Our priest yesterday is more of a "smudger" with the ashes than a conscientious cross-maker, so I was left with a gray oval on my forehead with which to recall my mortality.
Oh I loved this. Thank you for articulating the February Fear so well, and for winding it up in Julian of Norwich territory. ✨🌱🙏🏼