Ashes to Ashes

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. The first bad news I got was that it was a day of fasting and fish. Catholic, smatholic, fish and fasting is never good news for a girl who adores chocolate. The second bad news I got was about my car. Yes, it could be fixed, but to the tune of $1,800.00. My car is a 2000 ford Windstar, minivan, hardly a classic. Thanks to the person who hit and ran from the scene of the accident, this is all back on us. I was sitting in the back yard wondering where I would pull this from out of my behind, when my kids started arguing about the most ridiculous crap. Having had my zen place taken over and destroyed, I began heading back in when my phone rang.
My mom was on the other end, talking in a staccato, monotone voice about my dad being taken to the hospital by ambulance. Another wave crashed over my head but this one really hurt. I felt my legs buckle, but only enough to land me back on a patio chair. We talked about whether I should fly up and when. "Just wait for now," my mom told me. "I may need you more later." I sat back, put my head in hands and softly cried into my palms. "palms..." I thought for a moment. It was still Ash Wednesday and no Catholic worth their salt missed mass. Even the crowd the regulars referred as Chreasters, showed up for this one.
I'll be honest, I had about as much desire to go as I did to go in for a voluntary root canal. What I wanted to do was sit on my back patio and drink enough wine to put me into an alcohol coma. I wanted to forget that I am a responsible adult and act like an irresponsible teenager. I wanted some pot, cheap wine, a few shots and the ability to think that consequences don't exist. Since I haven't smoked pot since some time in the very early 80's, the wine in my fridge was not at all cheap and doing shots either makes me very friendly or vomit, I opted to go to church. Plus, I remembered that I am not stupid anymore. You just can't unring that particular bell. I took a shower, put on my makeup and headed for a packed house at our church. The priest spoke about giving ourselves back to God. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." was the constant. While I was trying to feel hopeful that all would be well with my dad, the Ashes to Ashes theme did little to comfort me. As if on auto pilot, I did was I was supposed to do. I was a good catholic, kneeling, praying, crossing myself, and standing when needed. In a singular moment of clarity, while I was on my knees waiting for Communion, I had a single thought. "This out of your control, this is out of your control, this is out your control." There it was, the most important lesson of Lent. I would voluntarily give up something for 40 days because I had control of it. I would wear the ashes of the palms on my head because I controlled going to mass or not going to mass, but the real lesson in Lent is the lack of control I have over a million different things in a single day. I had to give myself back to God and let Him have it because I have no control.
I would hardly call this an epiphany, but rather a reminder of what I already knew. Was God speaking directly to me? I think not. I think God has bigger fish to fry during Lent, than whether or not I can keep my crap together in order to do the right thing. It's not say that my prayers go unanswered, they get answered all the time. I don't always like the answer at the time, but I have lots of patience and broad shoulders to bear it out. My prayer for my family is simple, "Your will not mine." I am incredulous most days that God has trusted me with this body and soul. I know just how human I can be, so if I were the Almighty Father, I probably wouldn't have that much faith in me. I guess that is why it is best to reconnect and give it up to Him. Some days I don't think even God knows what kind of damage I would do if it were all up to me.
I have no control over anything that has happened recently. There was not a single thing I could to prevent it, stop it in progress or contain it. So as I start serving my Lenten sacrifice, my first order of business is to give up trying to control that which is beyond my scope. I am going to focus on today, being present, standing in the light of gratitude that today even exists for me. Because one day in the future, however far, I will be giving back to the earth I have so loved, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.