Honest Lent Care Package of Ashes

I'm tired, too. Come rest your weary bones.

Have you ever felt like every ounce of you has been wrung out to fill the cup of your family and work — and then you’re left wondering what is left for you? This feeling of depletion and exhaustion is valid for all of us, especially parents and caregivers.

This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, which marks the first day of Lent and occurs six and a half weeks before Easter. TBH, it can feel like a real downer of a holy day in our Christian calendar. One child struggles in school, work deadlines pile high, the People of the Internet can’t stop fighting, and we have to sit with our mortality?

Woosh.

In some years: Ash Wednesday, the day that begins the season of Lent, can act as an invitation into reflection, a gentle beckoning to slow down and zoom out to explore a larger understanding of humanity, mortality, and eternity.

And yet, in other seasons of our lives: Ash Wednesday is more of a validation than an invitation.

Maybe Ash Wednesday isn’t a banner proclaiming, “Don’t forget you’re going to die!” but more of a throw pillow affirming, “Yes, you are bone tired. Being a human is hard.”

I’m approaching Lent this year with an overwhelm deep in my bones. I don’t need to be reminded that death surrounds us. I see it in every headline, I feel it in every unanswered prayer.

What would it look like for you to approach Lent not with some sort of devotional reading plan to check off but with honesty?

Many of us are people who spend time caring for others, but a secret question bubbles up inside our souls: Who will care for us?

And the question inside the question, the one we dare not say aloud, lingers inside the secret place: Am I worth being cared for?

What if you took all you are — all bones and skin, all flesh and one big, broken, still-beating heart — and brought it all to the table to sit with the One who said, this is my body, broken for you?

“God of the Dust, we praise you for being a Maker who is capable of dreaming up glory from dirt. As we journey through this Lenten season, help us to remember our origin story and find ourselves deeply grounded in bodies made from the lowest part of creation, yet alive with gloried breath from the divine.”

Cole Arthur Riley

We live a mystery we can not fathom.

Christian spirituality is full of perplexing paradoxes. Life unfurls unto death, death breaks forth into life. We burn the palms that proclaimed Hosanna! and smear it on our foreheads, the same ones with lines of a life lived, the same lines Instagram keeps reminding us we could erase with a few injections.

All those days
you felt like dust,
like dirt,
as if all you had to do
was turn your face
toward the wind
and be scattered
to the four corners

or swept away
by the smallest breath
as insubstantial—

did you not know
what the Holy One
can do with dust?

Jan Richardson, Circle of Grace

What would it look like if we approached Ash Wednesday as some sort of sacred catch & release — a laying down of arms as we throw up our hands and shout into the wind, “I AM TIRED AND I DON’T UNDERSTAND.”

When one of my children is hurting (physically or emotionally), one of the first things I do is acknowledge their pain.

Could it be that we have a glorious God who — in all power — is a loving parent who acknowledges our pain? Could this be why, across centuries, a cobbled-together mix of folks across time and place have smeared ashes on their heads, reflecting on the sacred paradox of life and death that we live into daily?

As you enter into this time of Lent, I wonder what it would look like to rest in the truth that the God who is deeply knows, understands, and loves the human you are.

“The Great Spirit cares deeply about you, so gather all your worries into a blanket and throw them on his shoulders. He will carry them for you.”

(1 Peter 5:7, FNV)

Ash Wednesday invites us to receive a stark truth that we keep deep inside but often seek to avoid: from dust, we are formed, and to dust, we will return.

My bones ache for restoration and resurrection. But I also know this is true: Only when I’m willing to tell the truth about myself and my struggles can I begin to prepare for Easter morning. There is no life apart from death.

A Prayer for Ash Wednesday

O Lord, we are so aware of our humanity,

And yet we’ve tried to hide it,

Covering our bruised and bloodied hearts

With self-reliance

And self-sufficiency,

Covering ourselves with

The leaves of false confidence.

But Lord, under it all,

As we raise our families

And lie awake wondering

What will become of them

And of us,

We sense our need for mercy and grace.

O Lord, as we mark this day,

We ask that You would cleanse our hearts.

Free us from our past

And prepare us for the future.

Thank You for Your infinite love

That knows no limits,

That gently guides us and has compassion

For the ways we are like little children.

Merciful God, You know the depths of our humanity

And lavish the knowing love

And understanding of a parent.

Thank You for being faithful to me

And for cleansing my heart again and again

So that I may raise my children

To know the depths of what it is to be

Fully aware of their humanity

And fully known and held

By Your forgiveness and faithfulness.

Help us not hide from our humanity.

Instead, remind us that we are but dust

And to dust we will return.

Amen.

The above prayer is an adapted excerpt from “A Prayer for Ash Wednesday” on page 146 of my book To Light Their Way

¹

, a collection of modern prayers & liturgies.

Liturgies for Parents Podcast

ICYMI: I’ve been sharing short weekly podcast episodes as an offering for parents who need a quiet moment in a noisy world. The short weekly episodes drop every Monday morning — you’ll hear some scripture, a prayer, and a benediction.

You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you prefer to listen to your podcasts. I want to continue to keep these little offerings of contemplation accessible and free for everyone, and I’m grateful to Bethany Christian Services for believing in this work and making the podcast possible through their sponsorship. Bethany helps offset the costs of adopting children with disabilities and significant medical needs through their Caring Connection program. (This would have been a gift to our family as we adopted our daughter Eliza, who has Down syndrome and global physical and cognitive disabilities.)

During this Lent season, I invite you to consider joining me in supporting Caring Connection. Every dollar donated means a grant to a family to help cover fees, medical bills, prescriptions, therapeutic services, or the cost of making their homes accessible. Learn more here.

New Books Worth Reading

• Picture Books for Kids: Wherever You Are by Glenys Nellist; Good Night, Body by Britney Winn Lee; and The King of Easter by Todd Hains (I haven’t read this last book yet but it’s on our shelf and I look forward to spending time with it.

• Prayers & Blessings: The Lives We Actually Have by Kate Bowler & Jessica Richie (I shared more about it on Instagram.) They’ve also created a free downloadable Lent guide I’ll be reading with my neighbor.

• Motherhood: The Beauty of Motherhood by Kimberly Knowle-Zeller & Erin Strybis (This technically doesn’t release until March 21, so I’ll share more next month, but preorder it until then!)

• Parenting & Mental Health: Overcoming Parental Anxiety by Debra Kissen, Micah Ioffe, and Hannah Romain — I don’t have any personal connection to this book — I stumbled upon it at the library, and I’ve been finding it immensely helpful.

• Personal Mental Health & Soul Care: Strong Like Water by Aundi Kolber (This also doesn’t release until March 21, so I’ll be sharing more next month, but believe me when I say this book was so desperately needed by me and I encourage you to preorder it!)

We Have a Launch Date!

And a final cover! Save the date for September 19, 2023, when my new book will release. Soon, I’ll have the green light from my publisher to share the title and cover — and if you’re subscribed here, you’ll see it first! It’s a privilege and honor to bring this new book into the world, and I’d sincerely appreciate your support in helping me steward this new book, which includes more reflective essays and sharable, honest prayers for every season of your messy, holy life. Your help spreading the word about preorders will play an important part in this publishing journey. I’ll share more as soon as I’m able. Thanks again for being here. (For now, would you mind sharing this newsletter with a friend?)

A Benediction

May you be present to the humanity in yourself, your family, and in every neighbor who crosses your path. May you be brave enough to get quiet so you might sit in the mystery of God’s love – a love that breathed into dirt and dust, forming you and your children — body and soul.

As you reflect on the ways you may have pushed away, neglected, or ignored the fullness of your humanity and your need for God’s great and mysterious love, may you be reminded that you are not – and have never been – alone.

As you journey from darkness to light during this Lent season, remember that the Author, Sustainer, and Redeemer of life is always with you. May you show your children what it is to live into this confounding, mysterious, glorious truth.

And may all your life, your fantastic, dirty, messy, holy life, be a prayer.

1. I’ve linked to Amazon affiliate links when applicable, which means I get a very small fraction if you use my link. (Of course, I encourage you to shop local and small when possible!)