grace in ashes

yesterday was ash wednesday.  this day always comes with mixed feelings for me each year.  i remember as a kid, we would always go to mass as a school, and receive ashes on our forehead.  i would be mortified if we had to go anywhere after school because i didn't like the idea of standing out and looking so different- marked.  as i got into high school and then college, i think i began to see it much more as a part of my identity- this is who i am, and i'm proud of it.  i loved when people would ask me about it, so that i could explain to them why we did it.  of course, the down side is that it means lent is officially here and it's time to make some sacrifices.  nobody likes making sacrifices, and for the longest time, i didn't really see the point.  i got that i had to do it because everyone else was and the church said i had to, but that was about it.  it hasn't been until the past few years that i've really been able to understand the symbolism of the ashes.  we rise again from ashes.  ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  we came from dust, and to dust we shall return.  the ashes are an outward sign of our inner sinfulness and our mortality.  no, we don't particularly want to be reminded of either of those, but sometimes we need to be.  so often we focus on our differences, which is a dangerous slope that can easily lead to thoughts of superiority, prejudice, and all those -isms that nobody likes to talk about.  ashes remind us that we all came from the same place and we are all eventually going to die.  shouldn't that be enough to push us to live our lives peacefully together in between?  if not our lives, at least the forty days of lent?  perhaps within the ashes lies the grace we need to not just endure lent, but actually bring our whole selves to it and take something deep and profound away from it, and then rise to new life with Jesus on Easter Sunday.