Wednesday, March 26
Read: Psalm 39; Numbers 13:17-27; Luke 13:18-21
The character Fiyero, in the hit musical, Wicked, sings, “Dancing through life down at the Ozdust, If only because dust is what we come to; Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters; It’s just life; So keep dancing through…” A reminder of our mortality can cause us to either seize the day like Fiyero without care of the future or to despair of all hope. The Christian response to our mortality is something altogether different.
Lent is a season of reflection, repentance, and renewal. Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are dust, and to dust we shall return. But the ashes on our foreheads are not just a sign of mortality; they also point to the hope we have in Christ. Only through death can we find resurrection. Out of the ashes of sin, suffering, and loss, God brings new life.
Psalm 39 is an honest prayer about the brevity of life. The psalmist cries out, realizing how fleeting human existence is: “Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure” (39:5). Yet, amid this realization, there is hope: “But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you” (39:7). Even when life feels like dust slipping through our fingers, the God who redeems and restores holds us fast, anchoring us through the storms of life.
In Numbers 13, Moses sends spies to explore the Promised Land. They return with a report confirming that the land is indeed good—flowing with milk and honey. However, as the later verses reveal, fear takes hold of most of the spies, leading them to doubt God’s promise. Their fear turns to despair, and instead of trusting in God’s faithfulness, they see only obstacles. How often do we do the same? We see ashes where God is preparing something beautiful. We focus on the giants instead of the promise. Yet, when we struggle with fear and doubt, we have evidence of faith. Faith cannot exist without doubt, otherwise, it would be certainty.
Jesus, in Luke 13, gives us two short but powerful parables about the kingdom of God. He compares it to a mustard seed—tiny, yet growing into a great tree. He likens it to yeast, spreading unseen but transforming the entire dough. These images remind us that God’s work often starts small, even hidden, but it brings growth and renewal. Hope rises from what seems insignificant, even from ashes.
Lent teaches us that from the ashes of repentance, new faith emerges. From the brokenness of our world, God brings His kingdom. Jesus Himself embraced death—becoming dust for us—so that through His resurrection, we might have eternal hope.
As we journey through this season, where do we see only ashes? Where have we let fear overshadow God’s promises? May we place our hope not in what we see, but in the One who brings beauty from dust, life from death, and hope from ashes.
Prayer:
God of newness, in our moments of weakness, when all we see are ashes, remind us that You are at work. Help us trust in Your promises and see the hope You bring from the dust of our lives. Grow in us the mustard seed of faith, that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we may be like yeast in the dough, causing the whole loaf to rise with hope, for our hope is in you alone. We pray this and the prayers of our hearts in the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Reverend Emily Kincaid ’06 is Executive Pastor of First United Methodist Church of Pensacola and serves on the Huntington College Board of Trustees.