Ash Wednesday has come and gone: ash free. I was stunned this morning when reminded that I'd forgotten, stunned at how easily I can neglect certain religious rituals when at one time, as a cloistered nun, my life was anchored by such observances. My spiritual practice now focuses on meditation, Lectio Divina, and the effort to live mindfully. And while I am filled with gratitude for the profligate bounty of a divine creator and the freedom to choose how I will live, I miss the years I spent as a nun. Especially when Lent creeps in quietly, and ashes no longer thunder.
It's been a slow slide away from ritual
since I left religious life. Had it happened more swiftly, I might have clung
more tightly to it. I wonder if this is only emotional nostalgia for the
innocence of youth or a reminder that how I live and what I believe in is my
responsibility -- a much harder, dry and emotionless effort.
This morning I pondered psalm 51.
"Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness; in the greatness of your
compassion wipe out my offence. Create a clean heart for me, O God, and a steadfast
spirit renew within me."
Yes. I long for this clean heart, not a
new heart freshly molded by God, but the heart God has given me. A heart
willing to be cleansed and made steadfast. A heart not built on emotion and
youthful longing, but on reflection and the ongoing effort to remain true to
myself and to God.
