“My hope is in what the eye has never seen. Therefore, let me not trust in visible rewards. Let my trust be in Your mercy, not in myself. Let my hope be in Your love, not in health, or strength, or ability, or human resources.” Thomas Merton

Ash Wednesday reminds us of our universal frailty. At lease it should. We are all just walking dust, after all. Our waking lives are filled with equal measure of it. Frailty, that is. Being human means that in every given moment we can simultaneously feel “blessed” or “stressed” beyond measure. Haven’t we all felt that shadow of “dread” that can come upon us even when things are going well? It’s like the feeling of falling mentally. For those of us who feel the very real feelings of social anxiety it’s kind of a normal state of mind. It can be considered a weakness, but for me, it amplifies my dependance on God. I guess that’s kind of what the Apostle Paul felt about his particular “weakness.”

The Bible doesn’t say what that weakness is, but it’s been fodder for speculation in many discussions and Bible studies. Going back to Ash Wednesday, I like the tradition of wearing the ashes outwardly, although I have never actually gone to a church that supplies them for application. Most Protestant Churches don’t offer them, but maybe they should. I tend to wear mine on the inside.

I have recently had my anxieties amplified by going without alcohol for 30 days. It’s a bit like having the band-aid ripped off the rough edges of life. It was something I felt I needed to do for a time, after being prompted by lots of introspection (and prayer) brought about by the Bible study I started earlier this year. It was hard. Day 3, I was wondering if I could actually pull it off. A genetic predisposition of Alcoholism ran from both Grandparents on my dad’s side. My Grandmother died at a young age resulting from a love of the bottle, and my grandpa quit after being given an ultimatum by his second wife. It was a deal breaker, and he quit forever, to his credit.

It skipped a generation and landed on and my brother and me. We both shared a love of drinking. My brother died unexpectedly in 2023 as a result of many health issues, some of them accelerated by excessive drinking. So, this has become a part of my journey at this (late) time in my life. Better late than never, I guess. It was time. One my own personal thorns of the flesh that needed to be put to death. We are all in good company. Even the Apostle Paul wasn’t exempt.

As Paul said of his personal “thorn in the flesh”:

Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Cor. 12: 7-9

So, this can be encouraging, whatever your weaknesses are. No one gets out of this life alive. But as Christians, even in the midst of our “ashes” we can be encouraged. For when we are weak, Christ’s resurrection power rests on us! I don’t know about you, but as I get older, I am more confronted with more and more weakness.

Today, I wear my ashes inside, carrying about the dust of immortality. Always, carrying about in my flesh the knowledge of how close I came to the licking flames of hell, but also knowing I have escaped it only because of the Cross and the terrible road Jesus walked for me.

This my friends, is cause for celebration. Easter is coming. And in the midst of this life, we can have joy unspeakable and full of glory!

Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and though you do not even see Him now, you believe and trust in Him and you greatly rejoice and delight with inexpressible and glorious joy, 1 Peter 1:8