I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
~T.S. Eliot in “Burial of the Dead” from “The Wasteland”

On this Valentine’s and Ash Wednesday,
I begin the dusty journey
into the ash heap
of my soul, confronting
my limitations,
my temptations,
my inability to think of myself second,
my acknowledgement that salvation
comes from no effort of my own.

This shadowland I live in is not all there is nor will ever be.

I am so tangible — dust arising and settling back when the soil reclaims me. I do not want to think of myself as a mere handful of dust. I feel alive and solid, casting a shadow before or behind me, depending on the time of day and time of life. Although today I have substance, my shadow remains an ephemeral reflection of who I am.

The dust I am is a humbling, fearful thing – until God lifted me up in the palm of His hand and blew life into me.

I am His; a reflection of Him.
I breathe and pulse and weep and bleed.

This is His wondrous love on this Valentine’s Day and every day: we each are more than a handful of dust or an incorporeal shadow.

So much more.

By the sweat of your face You will eat bread,
Till you return to the ground,
Because from it you were taken;
For you are dust,
And to dust you shall return.
Genesis 3:19

This Lenten season will reflect on the words of the 19th century southern spiritual hymn “What Wondrous Love is This”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7bQl3IubU0