I assisted with the imposition of ashes to hospital patients and staff all day long on Wednesday, but I did not have ashes imposed on my forehead. I knew that I would be worshiping at my church that evening, and I waited until I could be the recipient rather than the carrier of God's grace.
Work at the hospital has kept me from my church for the last two Sundays. As the service began, it felt so good to just sit back and soak in the atmosphere.
As the service progressed, the readings and prayer of repentance became more than words. They spoke to and from my heart. The violin and guitar duet played The Lord's Prayer, and tears rolled down my face. I could truly pray, "Thy will be done." I confessed my weak faith and asked God's forgiveness. When the ashes were placed on my forehead, I knew I had experienced grace.
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