Wednesday Devotion
Ash Wednesday
Words for reflection on the day ahead or the day past for persons
that follow the way of Jesus;
that only know Christ in belief;
that question and are skeptical;
that have no belief other that humanity is here on this planet circling a star we call the sun.
May the G*d of your choosing help us all live in peace and plenty with our neighbors without violence or oppression.
Centering . . .
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost 1916.
Ponder . . .
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?
This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.
This is the hour
we are marked
by what has made it
through the burning.
This is the moment
we ask for the blessing
that lives within
the ancient ashes,
that makes its home
inside the soil of
this sacred earth.
So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are
but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made,
and the stars that blaze
in our bones,
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.
Blessing the Dust, © Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com
Remember . . .
Our God, Our Help in Ages Past,
our hope for years to come;
be thou our guide while life shall last,
and our eternal home.
Time, like an ever rolling stream,
bears all who breathe away;
they fly forgotten, as a dream
dies at the opening day.
A thousand ages, in thy sight,
are like an evening gone;
short as the watch that ends the night,
before the rising sun.
Before the hills in order stood,
or earth received her frame,
from everlasting, thou art God,
to endless years the same.
Under the shadow of thy throne,
still may we dwell secure;
sufficient is thine arm alone,
and our defense is sure.
Our God, our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast,
and our eternal home.
Isaac Watts, 1719