Ash Wednesday. The first day of the Lenten season.

A season I once ignored, but over the recent years have come to find meaning in.

Valentine’s Day.

A day I once celebrated, but over the years have chosen to ignore.

Yet this year the days seem to have aligned in a perfect balance.

Today the country will be filled with red hearts and chocolate, roses and little girls dressed in pink, couples getting dressed up for fancy meals in fancy places.

All in the name of love.

Given and received.

And at the same time, somewhere in between, will be those who are entering in to a season of less, of reflection, of yielding. To relinquish what is dear and loved. To let it go. To mark it by smearing our foreheads with that which is from the earth. To remember our humanity. To acknowledge our place as broken humans - naturally covered in dirt, in ash, in death. To withdraw with Jesus into the desert. To identify with hunger and temptation. To walk with him down the Via Dolorosa towards death.

All in the name of love.

Given and received.

Love given to a God, and love received from a God who has found us in the desert; who fed us, clothed us, and forgave us; who led us into victory at the end of a hopeless road; who wiped clean the ashes of death from our foreheads with his breath of life.

Today we receive ashes as a symbol of our mortality, in reverence and remembrance.

And as you pass the hearts and roses, may you be reminded of a love that has transcended our dirtiness and brokenness and re-routed the road that once lead to death towards eternity.  

Today, let love be a symbol of our immortality.

May you experience more of Jesus as you reflect on the love of God this Lenten season.