Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
Some day, this body I call my own will lose the life and breath that keeps it from falling into decay. My season of life will end as surely as every season does. I will become ashes and dust. I have an appointment with Death, minus the day, date, and time particulars. It may not happen tomorrow, next month, or even in the next twenty years. The cause of it remains unknown, but the certainty of it cannot be denied: I have an expiration date.
Will my impending return to ashes and dust lead me to appreciate every numbered day I have? Will fear of death goad me into fleeing mortality’s reality through cosmetic surgery and expensive drugs offering a return to youth? How will I number my days, and what do I want their sum to mean?
This Ash Wednesday, I ask myself: if my God given life is a blessing, is there also a blessing in my God given death?
Lord, my days are numbered. May they add up to something holy. Amen.