Ashes

I'm now off the sofa and way more mobile than when I last mused here. The back does get tired so Lisa's Lateral Life (nod to Hayley D for that one!!) isn't completely over, but the end is in sight. So in celebration of my new mobility the Beloved and I headed to the Newseum. The clue to this mecca's focus is in the name - it's all about the news.

There is a Pulitzer Prize photograph gallery where award-winning images capture and reflect humanity. The vast majority of these photos are taken during war, catastrophe and tragedy. It's not a pretty sight. It was soul marring and spirit invading.

I reeled from one image in particular and I can't even remember where or when it was taken, somewhere in Africa is the best I can do. Anyway, it was of a crouching man, an alleged spy, who had been viciously beaten and set alight. As his body flamed an attacker was plunging a machete into his skull.

I was totally speechless and repulsed; it was a vomit inducing, terror producing, heart-breaking glimpse at man's capability. I had no idea what to do with it. Christ have mercy...

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, a time of self-reflection and preparation for Easter. In churches all over the world people will receive the imposition of ashes as an outward reminder that we are but dust and to dust we will return. The man who was beaten, burnt and macheted to death became ashes, but so will his assailant. The poor and the powerful, the broken and the joyful, the unlovely and the loved; are all dust.

After the Newseum I needed to be around beauty to balance the horror. In the National Gallery of Art it was fitting that I found it in an exhibition of Picasso's Drawings. A tortured soul who produced such beauty. When all is stripped away, we humans are all the same. All have this capacity for loving and hurting, torturing and comforting, selfish delight and selfless sacrifice. I guess it's about seeking, by the grace and mercy of God, to live out of our beauty rather than our torture.

Isaiah 61 v3 reminds us that the Lord will bestow on us on "a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair". We may all be but dust but we're preparing for Easter! Out of death will come resurrection and life eternal, the ashes are not the end.

So this Lent, go ahead and give up chocolate and booze, TV and Facebook; but how about each day wearing a garment of praise, pouring out the oil of gladness and trying to bring beauty where there are only ashes. What a headline that would be in the Newseum!

Healing?

So, I'm laid up. This is my second week of chiropractic treatment for two bulging discs in my lower back - ouchie. Twice a week I ride the Fairfax Bronco to extend and reposition my discs. In-between I'm only allowed to stand or lie down - I'm forbidden to sit for more than 15 minutes. I now envy you sitting people - on the metro, in cars, in coffee shops and restaurants. Typing and writing lying down are my new skills; I must remember to update my CV.

This is an age old back story - years of bending over a field hockey stick, a fall on the stairs in 2000 and a near-death experience car accident in 2008. Dear knows how long these discs have been bulging, putting pressure on my sciatic nerve. Certainly since the accident in '08 I have only been able to sleep on my left side. Now it's early 2012 - how come it has taken me 3 and a bit years to do anything about it?

I blame sensory adaption. Or maybe a pessimistic resignation that I was always going to be that way. It's just how it is.

Yet, if 2012 is the year when I must decrease and He, Jesus, must increase, then all of me is up for grabs to be changed. The bent things will be straightened out; the pain and numbness will be replaced with freedom and sensitivity; the wounded bits that press on the raw nerves in my life will be bound-up and healed. He will make ALL things new.

When we say "increase in me Lord", He takes us at our word. Often the circumstances that come our way after uttering such wild desires take us to the end of ourselves. And it is there He stands and calls us by name to get out of the boat and walk on the water, imploring us to trust that He is faithful and good.

What pain and numbness have you in your life that you've adapted to accept as a done deal? Psalm 147 v3 tells us that God "heals the broken-hearted and bind up their wounds". The healing process isn't pleasant and He's often in no rush, but the end result will be beautiful.