An offering of ashes….

I meant to post this on Wednesday, but plum forgot.

Also, I had written a more lengthy post about this on my old blog, but I can’t remember what I wrote, as I deleted that blog!

Well, that means this post will be short, sweet, and to the point.

The family hasn’t truly been back to church since leaving Wisconsin. Since leaving St. Mary’s. Don’t mean to sound all Tony Bennett on you here, but we left our hearts of faith at St. Mary’s. We tried out other churches in subsequent moves, and it isn’t like we’ve turned our backs on the faith entirely – we’ve often talked about going back to church again.

But deep down, we just really don’t want to.

I get homesick for it sometimes. Especially around Christmas and Easter. Those were always the most amazing times to go to church, specifically St. Mary’s. The faith and love was so strong.

One of the more singular days I miss going to church is Ash Wednesday. Because of this:

Found via Google search for 'Ash Wednesday'
Found via Google search for ‘Ash Wednesday’

When I was really little, I loved getting the ashes on my forehead. It just made me feel so special. It was my faith made real, proudly ’emblazoned’ on my forehead for a short time. I loathed having to wash them off before going to bed.

Weird but true.

That’s all.

Like I said, short, sweet, and to the point.

But you might be hearing more about St. Mary’s from me in the next week. So, that’s something to look forward to, I guess.

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