Ashes

I write this today out of the rawness of my heart. I write as one who is abruptly, sharply, painfully aware that I am ashes. And all that I cling to is but ashes.

As one who controls much of her life by careful planning, my plans are scattering like dried leaves in a gust of wind. Good plans. Sweet plans. Treasured plans. Disappearing from view before I can even reach out a hand to grasp at them.

This all on the heels of some major letting go. An intentional choice to release responsibilities I’ve held too close, and to trust in God’s ability and grace to manage them just fine without me. 

But this, too? I didn’t choose this.

It’s ironically fitting, this crumbling of plans with Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. A season and a tradition I am largely unfamiliar with but have been drawn toward this year. A 40-day expression of keeping company with Christ in His sorrows, of removing all that hinders our nearness to His love, of leaning into the pain of a fast so that the feast of the resurrection carries that much more flavor. 

Wish granted? Perhaps. 

And I wonder at the invitation in it all. I am invited to let go of not only that which I place on Christ’s throne in my heart, but also of that which I would not choose to release. I’ve told God multiple times recently that I am emptying my hands so that He can fill them with more of Himself and His abundant life poured out for me. But I didn’t think the letting go also included all of this. 

I’m resisting my usual tendency to find the scriptural promise and tie it all up with a neat little bow of hope. This time, I need to remember my frailty and the fragility of all I hold dear. This time, I need nothing more than to know that Jesus knows what it’s like to let go–both willfully and with hands bound.

Surrender does not choose what it releases. It simply says, “You can have it all.”

The words I sang this morning, before even knowing all that I was surrendering, were:

Here I am
Down on my knees again
Surrendering all
Surrendering all

And find me here
Lord as You draw me near
Desperate for You
Desperate for You

I surrender

Drench my soul
As mercy and grace unfold
I hunger and thirst
I hunger and thirst

With arms stretched wide
I know You hear my cry
Speak to me now
Speak to me now

I surrender
I surrender
I wanna know You more
I wanna know You more

Like a rushing wind
Jesus breathe within
Lord have Your way
Lord have Your way in me

Like a mighty storm
Stir within my soul
Lord have Your way
Lord have Your way in me

( Watch on YouTube here. )

If that which breaks my heart causes me to know Him more, then let it be so. He sits with me in the ashes. He mourns with me as I mourn, He weeps with me as I weep. May I learn the beauty of lament and the grace of grief. 

Today, again, I let go.