Ash Wednesday thoughts: or, Don't be an ash

As a priest, I feel it is my duty to post an Ash Wednesday devotion here, to help us get going on this Lent thing. Why do I say it that way? Because honestly, I seem to always come to Lent with a jumble of emotions and struggle to get myself in a "Lenten" mode. This year is no different. This is my first year to do Lent as a priest, and I'm used to just showing up at church and the priest doing the service, and doing my prayers at home. Not so, this year.

OK, I've got a good way to start. Shirley and my friends, Todd and Becca (guitarist and vocalist for "Stage Dive," the band I played drums with in Houston), were adopted by a cat a few years ago, on Ash Wednesday, so they named him "Ash." Nah, that won't work. OK, maybe I should get a little more personal. St. Francis, whose name I took at my monastic vows (for many reasons), called his body "Brother Ass." There, that's personal -- because that's me. He called himself that because he had a hard time doing what God asked him to do. And so do I, sometimes very much so. Paul wrote that he did the things he didn't want to do, and had a hard time doing the things he should do. We all do. We fool ourselves into thinking that if we are humanly fulfilled -- married to the right person (and when things are going well in our marriage), blessed financially (our bills are paid, even if just barely!), are able to do what we're called to do, and have other stuff in our lives that are enjoyable -- when things are going right, so to speak, that we'll be OK, there won't be any struggles in life.

Sorry (I say this to myself), life doesn't work that way. We will always struggle with -- self. We are selfish. It's never enough. It's our nature to always want more, to not be content with all that God has given us. It's easy to look at other people and envy them, and think, "Man, if I could only make what they make, and have that car and that house......" Well, we get the point. Spock once told Kirk that the wanting is often better than the having. And he was right.

A brother of Francis' found him outside one cold winter's night, building snowmen. And talking to himself -- calling them his wife and children. I'm glad our monastic order is modeled after the ancient Celts -- we can marry. But he couldn't. So he built those snowmen and called them wife and children, and reminded himself that with that privilege (as with anything else God gives us) comes the responsibility of taking care of it.

God has given us what we need, and what He knows we can take care of. He gives us all we need, the Bible teaches us. One night, Francis was found rolling in the snow naked, and once into a thorn bush. Why? To deal with himself, so he could continue to do what God had asked him to do. Thankfully, God doesn't call us to literally roll in snow or thorns. But He calls us to do that in our own way. This Lent, we have the privilege to draw close to Him, and tell Him what's on our mind and heart: that we want more than what we're already blessed with, that we sometimes aren't thankful enough -- and that we don't want to be that way. It's our human nature. To ask Him for help. To have my roll in the snow with God.

So today, whether your church does ashes on the forehead or not (ours does -- come get 'em tonight if you want), today it's OK to be an "ash" -- to be humble before God and enjoy Him.

Now, it's time to go sit behind my drum kit and pull another muscle -- I pulled one at work yesterday moving crates, I pulled one last night behind my kit (when I got quite animated!), and now it's time to go do it again! I have a goal to reach. And, as with all goals, especially spiritual ones, we have to expend a lot of effort. The peace of Christ to you.