Last night, I heard the words that I hear every Ash Wednesday: Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. We were asked to consider what these words meant to us this year. Initially, I thought about how this year exposed how vulnerable and weak we all are–our veneer of permanence being stripped away by a microscopic killer virus. But this year, I faced my mortality – not from COVID-19, but from a misdiagnosed bacterial infection that put me into a hospital bed for 4 days and included an episode of arterial fibrillation (A-fib). It was the first time in my life when I actually considered that my life could end. Though thankfully my A-fib was a one-time thing with no long-term effects, it was a stark reminder that indeed I am dust. I am a vapor. I am just a blip on the timeline. Life is short.
My A-fib episode has become a motivator. My body, though dust, is valuable and needs care and attention. What I put into my body matters. Movement matters. A healthy lifestyle matters. But no matter how much I do right for my body, it will at some point wear out. I am dust. To think differently is denial. I may delay the inevitable, but I will not be able to stop time.
My A-fib episode has also become a gift, shifting my attention from the temporary to the eternal. I am finite, God is infinite. And I am not “just” dust; I am dust that God formed and redeemed and filled. God’s Spirit is in this dust, moving me toward all that is eternal. And one day (later, rather than sooner, I pray), I will trade this perishable dust for an imperishable body on the day of resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:51-54).
Life is short, but life need not be meaningless. As long as this dust has breath, I will not waste it on selfish interest, but do my best to live it each day for the One who loved this dust so much that he took on flesh, gave himself to death for me, and rose again. I will pursue loving Christ by loving others; I will endeavor to serve Christ by serving the “least of these”; I will seek Christ by seeking the kingdom of God and God’s justice. As long as this dust has breath.
Tongue on Fire 