Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026
“And we are put on earth a little space
That we might learn to bear the beams of love.“
William Blake
No matter where we’ve lived this past year, we have one experience in common: being knocked off-balance by an American administration that cares only for itself while having our personal freedoms, beliefs, expectations, voices and values threatened, both here in the States and across the globe. Along with that, we each have our own personal worries and challenges. Over the past year, we’ve perhaps experienced what existing in a perpetual Lent feels like.
With all that is going on in my world (globally and personally), and no doubt yours, I’m finding it difficult to consider giving up something else for Lent. Instead, I’m reflecting on giving to—giving to myself in ways that lead me closer to the Light; giving to the world through my words and actions; choosing beauty over ugliness; choosing Love over the hate that permeates my own country; focusing on light instead of darkness. What I’m choosing this Lent is a journey of the heart.
Spiritual psychiatrist Gerald May, in the book The Awakened Heart, invites his readers to reflect on all the varied messages about God they have received throughout their lives—in childhood, from religious authorities, from parents, from media, into adulthood, including their own perceptions of God. Then he advises to let all of those go—throw them to the wind—and “let God be God.” After all, we can’t put God in a box though God knows how hard we try. Dr. May continues in his own grace-filled way to add, “And let you be you.” Let you be you.
To let God be God (releasing our own perceptions and expectations) requires trust. To let me be me (releasing my own perceptions and expectations) requires compassion. So, Lent invites us to go inward, to seek God in the holiest of holies, that place within our hearts where only God and I (or only God and you) exist, far beyond human judgment and influence. It is there, if we go with trust and with compassion, that we might “learn to bear the beams of love.”
Blessings to you. ~ Rosemary
Sifting Ashes
What would you do
if you were invited
to enter your heart
in this season
of self-honesty?
If you were encouraged
to leave reason and judgment
behind and instead
ask grace to be your
companion?
Would you accept the flashlight
offered when you crossed
the threshold, the decoder ring
needed to decipher
each message that begs
revelation?
Could you look?
Once inside, would you willingly
sift through the ashes
that have accumulated
over your life
like the layers
of cinder in your
unswept fireplace?
Would you finger the silt-soft remains
of grief, remorse, regret,
guilt, even shame,
letting them fall
through your fingers
like the fair hair
of a child?
For here, you will hear
the stories that make you
you, filled with ashes
and hope, shadows and light, death
and life.
And after you have sat
among the ashes,
know that it is your choice
to decide which to wash away,
which to bury, and which
to hold to your heart
like a locket,
as you emerge
to breathe the bright air
of Spring.
(c) Rosemary McMahan
Photo credit: Rosemary McMahan
Spirit Reflections 