Holding Kindness: In Memory of W.C.

“Let the beauty of the Lord be upon us and prosper for us the work of our hands.”
Psalm 90

Hands.
Kindness dwells in some people’s hands.
He and I shared few conversations.
No matter.
Words fade over time,
ink evaporating off of impermanent paper.
Hands leave gift-marks that linger
And kindness lived in his hands.

You could see it in them.
They were strong.
Nimble-strong
and wise.
Playful too, sometimes.
Hands trusted
by puppies
and people
and plants that welcomed their touch.

How beautiful,
those calloused fingers
so accustomed to the soil’s shifting seasons.
Prickly cucumbers,
delectable tomatoes
and feast-famous green beans,
all coaxed from the earth
and offered with a generous spirit
to family and friends.

Kindness lived in his hands
and those fingerprints are etched forever
on loved ones’ souls
who laugh
and weep
and remember.

The hands of a fisherman
hands of a carpenter
hands of a gardener
hands of a husband and father and grandfather
brother and uncle and friend.
Wise hands
Caring
grace-filled
hands. In his hands,
we glimpsed
the hands of God.

Let your beauty be yet upon us, O God, and prosper for us the work of our hands.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Ashes.
I scatter them. They slip away from cold-numbed finger tips. It is winter. Nothing grows in winter—does it?

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

But the kitchen fire warms my hands.
Its ashes make nutritious things grow.

We are ashes;
our lives seem sometimes to slip through our fingers.

We are also formed from good, dark hummus—the earth.
We are dust.
P
laced in God’s garden “to till it and to keep it.”

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

The season of Lent in Christian traditions is a time to reflect on rhythms of feasting and fasting and feasting again in our world, our churches, our spiritual lives. To   what fasts can we commit ourselves during this season that will teach us how to fashion a redemptive and life-giving  relationship with this earth we call home?  What can we plant in the ashes and dust of Lent’s Great Fast that will bear nourishing fruit for Easter’s Great Feast?

Lent begins with Ash Wednesday. On Ash Wednesday, our foreheads smudged with charcoaled Palm branches from last year’s now-cold feast, we are reminded:

By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread
Until you return to the ground,
For out of it you were taken;
You are dust, and to dust you shall return.     Genesis 3:19

Life is fleeting and fragile. Yet Lent calls us to work–by the sweat of our brows–to embody the Christian Gospel’s Easter promises of abundant feasts for all people. This is perhaps the most palpable outcome of a holy Lent: people of faith considering what it means to live lives of meaningful sacrifice and redemptive service and then taking steps to do just that.