Words of Faith

Words of Faith

Spirit to Spirit Writing Project

The word Lent comes from an old English word meaning lengthening of days. In Christianity, it refers to the time before Easter, traditionally observed through repentance and learning. It's a season to be intentional about changing and growing. Some people give up items to create space and time for new life and habits to grow. Instead of giving something up, I invite you to try to commit to answering these writing prompts each of the 40 days of Lent. The discipline it takes to set aside time each day to reflect and write about God and your relationship with spirituality is a journey that you will emerge from with a renewed spirit. Every writer has their own special voice to add to this project, whether poetry, prose, essay, thoughts, lists, or through comments, prayer, and encouragement.

How do I participate?
Each day, a writing prompt will be posted. A prompt is a question or statement that is meant to inspire your thoughts in whatever genre you feel moved to write. Post your reflections as a comment under each day's prompt (for further instructions, see 'How To Post' on the right side of the page). It is up to you if you write, read, or pray along with us each of the 40 days of Lent or just drop in from time to time when the spirit moves you to participate. Writing regularly is a discipline that many writers struggle with and this is a way to involve that discipline as a Lenten practice. Through writing and leaving encouraging words for others in this project, we become a supportive spiritual writing community

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

#1 Welcome to the Wilderness

Lenten Writing Prompt #1
Today is Ash Wednesday, when many of us go to church and receive ashes on our foreheads to remember the humble beginnings and endings of our earthly selves.  We are all people of Ash, who will return to ash one day.  What is it like to be one of them?  What are your reflections on Ash Wednesday?  Would you (or do you) create some other tradition to enter into the wilderness of the Lenten season?

29 comments:

  1. The Simple Things of Ash Wednesday ....by Poet Pastor Larry Morris

    We go together.
    There are hundreds of us.
    There are millions of us around the world
    walking
    to the ashes,
    to the dust.
    We will each hear the words
    “Remember that you are dust
    and to dust you shall return”
    and the ashes will be smeared
    on our foreheads
    in a simple experience
    in an ancient ritual
    in a primal sign.
    The sign will remind us
    that we are on a journey.
    It will, at best, take us,
    years to arrive
    and the closer we get,
    the simpler the journey will become.
    We are returning to the dust of the first creation
    the dust of the first creator.
    We returning to the one
    who made us from dust and breath
    and sent us to love.
    And when we arrive,
    we, the people of dust,
    will find we have returned
    to love,
    simple love.

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    Replies
    1. ah the joy of walking alongside brother! may the days linger a bit.

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    2. made me think about the profoundness of simple love

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    3. I like "the closer we get the simpler the journey will become. While many things are taken from us, finally everything, we get a chance to give away a great deal of what we carry.

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  2. ASH WEDNESDAY
    2-10-2016

    The Space tonight is Thin
    and unusually Holy
    I can feel
    the cloud of Witnesses
    watching
    smiling
    as we file forward
    for the Imposition of Ashes

    Ugly, dark ashes,
    sweetly fragranced
    with frankincense
    and glazed with fresh olive oil
    trace a crude ebony cross
    upon each bared forehead

    "From dust you came;
    to dust you will go,"
    speaks a humbling reminder
    of our past and future

    fHs

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    1. there's frangrance caught atween your words. thanks.

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    2. Your cloud of witnesses is truly a source of strength for you, may they continue to support and sustain you in your writing and your work : )

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    3. Thin, fragranced, glazed - your words involve me and I'm grateful for the experience. Thank you

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  3. OUT OF ASHES
    Out of the fires and deposits of ash, the cycle of existence in the mountain wilderness areas I am familiar with is maintained.
    Vibrant, purposeful plants and animals are eventually reduced to mulch and ashes that give birth and nurture new ecosystems.
    As I trek on, surviving on a planet born and sustained by a sphere of fire, breathing the air and consuming provisions from generations past, supported and loved by The Loving Spirit I call God, I am reminded that I too am part of the past, present and future mix, no better or worse than an other.
    In the heat of my journey, I remember that the seeds of hope and love I give could make a difference in the next growth and I pray that my poor attitudes, motives and deeds would shrivel and be fully removed into oblivion.
    “and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it.” Ecclesiastes 12:7

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    Replies
    1. such is the ecosystem of grace. such a joy to share.

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    2. You had me with the first sentence and the words never let go! wonderful. And the sentence "As I trek on..." if simply powerful. Thank you for writing.

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  4. Ashes Meeting Ashes
    Ash Wednesday 2016
    ELW 320 [Erhalt Uns Herr]

    1. Palm fronds burnt ash from last year’s use,
    Crossed foreheads now our sins accuse;
    Our Lenten journey we embark,
    Solemn season our souls do mark.

    2. Each person who would make this trek,
    Brings naught but self; nothing deflect.
    Examination of life’s path,
    Reject sin’s song and Satan’s wrath.

    3. Now hum we a most sincere tune.
    Bring full voice into chorus soon.
    Sisters, dear brothers gather ‘round.
    Our Lenten path needs grace’s sound.

    4. Passed choices made, we lay before,
    Holy One’s ope’ and welcoming door.
    Nothing before need bar the way,
    Forgiveness fresh brings this new day.

    5. Amazing truth we claim and know,
    The Word Made Flesh has us in tow.
    Ne’er need we fret or live as fust,
    Our Lord keeps all, rejects sin’s crust.

    6. So come my hearty band, Love’s folk.
    Let’s be about; let’s cook life’s yolk.
    Our servant’s Lord makes this day well,
    Satan’s best work, God’s sent to hell.

    The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
    11 February 2016

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    1. It's great to hear your voice! Love your verse today : )

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    2. love the "let's cook life's yolk" the golden center

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    3. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    4. Oh Music! Thanks for the words and reminder that we can do lyrics too!

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  5. Cinderella sat by the ashes
    Was marked by the ashes
    Did her drudgery
    Did not leave her toxic surroundings
    Did she do this to be closer to the ashes of her father?
    The ashes of her mother?
    She immersed herself so deeply
    That she was named for the ashes: Cinderella.
    Then there was a ball
    she wanted to go to
    But the ashes
    On her face
    All over her clothes
    Wouldn’t let her.
    The ball was abundant
    and welcomed all of the maidens of the kingdom
    Cinderella tried to go
    But when she presented herself
    it was to an audience whom she knew would rip apart her fragile efforts
    Did she do this because she wanted to go back to her comfortable place by the fire
    And say she tried?
    Something inside of her still longed to go to the ball
    Be free
    God’s love is abundant, so she got another chance
    And she went to the ball.
    And when she returned to the ashes on the hearth
    they had less power over her
    She joined the prince and left the ash from the hearth to tend itself
    But she kept
    her own
    stardust

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    Replies
    1. while she saw the ashes, love saw the stardust? You bring us deeper into the story!

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    2. So many things, Fairy tales are so powerful, Cinderella and cinders - how did i never see that? I love your life theme of stardust. (I've used it!)

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    3. Interesting. By knowing our own ashes, do we know ourselves better? Cinderella was forced to be in the ashes by her "wicked step mother". Ash can have a corrosive effect, but soap is also made of ash. It is an interesting idea. Thanks, Ruth.

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  6. Reflections on Ash, on a Wednesday
    Doug Millar 2/10/16
    I turned the plate over and there was my name- the last one in a long list that stretched back almost a hundred years. “Pastors of Norland Lutheran Church”, it said. I flipped over the plate and there was a black and white picture of the little country church I served in in 1977. It held about a hundred people and looked like a lot of others. It was built in the 1880’s and was one of the first buildings in the town. I was the last pastor listed because I was the one who ordered the plates to be made and sold back then. I hadn’t seen one since 1978. I got this one off an internet auction site. Someone brought it to Montana at some point and it found its way to a rummage sale and then on line. As I held it I couldn’t believe my good fortune.
    Of course, seeing the plate and the picture brought back a flood of memories. I remembered the dusty road in front of the church, the embossed tin plate on the walls and the ceiling. I remembered that the bell rope used to come off the pulley pretty often and it would leave us without a bell until we could get someone out to fix it. That is, until I trained a group of normally mischievous boys, who used to sneak up on the roof anyway, how to fix it. People would watch and call out to them to be careful and worry about their safety, not knowing all the other unsupervised visits they had made to the same spot- many at night.
    I often thought that if I made it to heaven, I wouldn’t occupy a seat in the front pew or the pulpit. I always felt more comfortable on the kitchen steps with a cup of coffee and maybe a guitar, talking to someone or playing a favorite song or tune.
    I remember the time I cleaned out the old crusty percolator coffee pot the church had. I got it to make pretty good coffee one Saturday. The Sunday morning kitchen crew evidently had a different standard and couldn’t figure out how the coffee suddenly tasted so bad. They threw it out and got a new one. I never said anything.
    One of my great victories was to finally talk them into replacing the WWII hand cranked mimeograph with a newer electric one. The old one had to be constantly re assembled as the gears and screws kept falling out of it. I was impressed that the company in Fargo where we got the newer one took it in trade. It is sad to think there might have been some poor organization or church for which the old thing would be a welcome upgrade.
    All of these memories and more seemingly rose up out of the plate like big flakes of ash from a fire and were wafted away from my sight. Many pieces had faces on them of people who probably passed away long ago. Ole, Hilda, the Arnesons, Orville and Torvil were some of them. Ash I suppose. Those old memories are just ash.
    I wonder, though, if some of that ash became fertilizer for the continued “doings” at the church and the people who kept it going. Maybe there is a newer plate somewhere.

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    1. those old, black mimeograph machines I used at two different churches and a bank, I always wished them to ashes

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    2. I agree with you about your place in heaven! I'd love to sit with you then, an hopefully before then and talk some more. Thanks for the captivating memoirs you write - that are really about all of us!

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  7. I don't need a ritual or tradition to enter the wilderness of Lent. I am already here. I've been here for a long while.

    I am fully aware of my sinfulness. I could spend hours naming all of what I've done and what I've left undone. That silent moment when we begin worship and make our confession is unreasonably brief. I think "Is that it? I'm not done yet."

    I am not oblivious of my inadequacies. I know I am not enough. I try and fail daily. These are long, lonely days.

    I know all too well that we return to dust. Four loved ones have died in as many months. I watched as two of them were returned to the earth, returned to ash. There is not enough time to grieve and there is too much time to think on life's brittleness.

    I am tired of Lent. Tired is too small a word. Exhausted, spent, weary, empty. This one day, this season of Lent that is just beginning, is already too much. Too much introspection. Too much doubt. Too much work. Too much pain.

    So, I go. Still, I go. I get marked with ashes. I sing. I pray. I listen. I hope.

    I hope that one day I will be able to let go, and that when I do, He will not let me fall.

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    Replies
    1. I hear your heaviness and your hope. I hope being with this process and this group is helpful.

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  8. Driving

    I’ve had this dream a million times.
    So many times, in fact,
    I roll my subconscious eyes at it while I am asleep
    if that’s possible.
    I’m on a freeway
    Cars are zipping by me on all sides
    Sometimes my car turns into a child’s scooter
    or even a cardboard box with wheels
    The freeway turns into a bridge
    that ends in a churning sea.
    Is the sea my wilderness?
    Or the freeway?
    Both are scary
    Uncertain
    I am always alone to navigate through the overwhelming storm of cars and water.
    When life seems overwhelming
    (which is most of the time)
    This is where I go.

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    1. I find your scatteredness is so often on point. Keep letting that brain go - it's helpful to the rest of us!

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    2. I've had many similar dreams. Some have sequels. I think they are about our frustrations. I taught myself to wake up when I had them and just as I was coming out of it, change the ending. Seems to have attenuated them.

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