So yesterday was Ash Wednesday… it’s a day when Catholics get ashes on their forehead as a visual sign that we are Christians. It is a sign of repentance and the start of Lent.
Good times. Church was a mess by itself. It’s hard to force your kids to get ashes when they don’t want the ashes or understand their importance so we let them make their own decisions. Just kidding… we forced them to get ashes. Parents- 1, Ashes- 1, Vincent and Nicholas- 0 letting them make their own decisions… priceless bullshit.
So anyway, I had the ashes from last night, went for my 5 am swim, took a shower and started getting ready for work.
As I was peering into the mirror at the YMCA, I noticed two things.
1. My eyebrows deserve their own zip code at this point.
2) I have a dirty forehead.
And that’s when I replayed the last like seven hours in my head: I had slept for six hours, went swimming, took a shower and I still had Jesus on my head.
As a Catholic, I can’t remove the ashes… Catholic guilt is strong. And then it hit me… those ashes were stuck in my wrinkles. I had been swimming with Jesus and we also took a shower.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Guys! I’m old and I have one foot in the grave. I have ashes that get stuck in my wrinkles. I have wrinkles.
Until next time,
I’m going to drink more of the sacramental wine… which we believe is Jesus’ blood.
