ashes ashes…

“And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.” (it’s been awhile since I’ve quoted Batman. Feels good.)

We all fall down sometimes. We do epicly stupid things and make really bad choices and skip down the path only to realize we left our brain like the Scarecrow somewhere out in the field.

I have long believed that we are here on earth for what seems like a long time so that we learn how to fall, and in increments, not as far.

It’s the picking up part that gets difficult. How do you do it? Have you ever felt like you’ve fallen on the ice and you can’t get up? Each time you try, you can’t quite get traction and you just slide some more, laughing or crying or both alternately.

And then, in my story anyway, a dark handsome stranger asks if you need help and you say why yes in your best proper Queen’s English and he puts his hand out and you check for a ring on the societally accepted finger and you get confused for a second when there’s a ring but then you see it’s on a different finger and must be a class ring (if he’s a dork) or a ring he found while backpacking through france or, better, India or China. And then you skip off into the sunset… sorry I digress…

Or, in reality, you just have a good laugh, dust yourself off, nurse a couple bruises for a few days, and you just get up. And that is what Lent is about. Knowing you fell, and getting back up. Or more to the point, accepting the help you need to get up.

“When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down…
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul”

and just for the record, btw, that kids’ song “Ring around the rosey” is reeeeaaallly freaky.

The Lost Sheep, painting by Alfred Soord, 1868-1915

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