Ash Wednesday always gets me thinking. The part that sticks with me the most, every year, is watching the pastor put ashes on the foreheads of everyone. I know most of the people in the line. This one has struggled with illness. This one is in prime health. This one has recently lost a loved one. These are teenagers. This one had a brush with death. This one is a baby. Everyone gets ashes. There is no discrimination. Death does not discriminate. As a chaplain, I've seen that far more often than I'd like. Watching the imposition of ashes every year is a reminder of not just my mortality, but also of just how real death is for anyone, at any time. Ash Wednesday does not promote happy feelings. It's not supposed to. Instead, it is the opening to 40 days of reflection, meditation, self-sacrifice. Last night was a reminder of how finite our lives are. It was a reminder that nothing in this world - not even us - is permanent. Easter morning will br
One woman's musings of her journey in ministry and faith.