by Bethany Smith

Psalm 103:8-14

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.

As I walked along the seashore, the crisp and salty winter air whooshed across my face, providing a sensation comparable to that first bite of a York peppermint patty. Though it was cold, the beach was still fairly populated with fellow adventurers who were wrapped in their warmest, most water-resistant clothing as they walked their dogs and as young ones galloped in the sand. Walking into a nearby coffee shop, one small child with bright red cheeks, who was wrapped up so well that they wobbled more than walked, curled up next to her mother who tenderly and faithfully snuggled her daughter close to her side to warm her up after their afternoon frolic as they waited for their warm food and afternoon tea…

* * * * * * *

This year has been – well hard. The past eleven months have been painful for many, and lonely for most. We, as a human race, are more aware than we have been in a long time of what it means to be human; of what it means to be frail and mortal. The phrase memento mori has echoed in our cultural mind for months. Receiving ashes this Ash Wednesday and being reminded that, indeed, we are dust and to dust we shall return has a different, more profound impact this year. We have seen almost half a million people die in America alone from one virus. That reality is staggering and excruciating.

The Psalmist reminds us that “The LORD is merciful and gracious” and “as a father has compassion for his children so the LORD has compassion…for he knows how we are made; he remembers that we are dust”. I need to be reminded of God’s compassion, mercy, and love. I need to be reminded that God sees me – sees each of us – as his beloved child, and he is always ready for us to curl up next to him when we are in need. He is compassionate and good.

One of my favorite paintings is Sir. John Lavery’s The Mother. Gracing the walls of the Ulster Museum in Belfast, Northern Ireland, this is a painting I used to rush to see during my monthly visits to the museum when I lived in the city. The painting is an intimate portrayal of a young mother gently and lovingly holding and kissing her infant child. For me, this image depicts the beauty of God’s gentleness and love toward us – God’s children. Seeing God as more than a Father, but also as a loving, gentle, strong, and comforting Mother is a profound source of comfort. This has been particularly true this year.

May you be comforted. May you be a comfort to others. May you remember that you are dust, and may you find comfort in God’s compassionate arms of love.

Bethany Smith has degrees in Conflict Transformation and Social Justice from Queen’s University Belfast and in Higher Education. She currently coordinates campus ministry opportunities at John Brown University, and serves in a variety of capacities in her parish, Grace Episcopal Church in Siloam Springs, Arkansas. She lives with her beloved Welsh Corgi, Artie.

Lent Day 4