Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. – William Arthur Ward
This past week, Christians around the world celebrated Ash Wednesday.
Ash Wednesday is a quiet, solemn occasion. This observance is one of my favorites, although I didn’t go to my first Ash Wednesday service until my early 20s.
I’ve always had a leaning toward the melancholy.
What is Ash Wednesday?
Ash Wednesday is the day after Mardi Gras and marks the beginning of the season of Lent. Always situated at 46 days before Easter, Lent is a time to reflect and turn our attention towards Jesus.
Fasting and sacrifice follows feasting and celebration.
In Biblical times, people used ashes to express grief, suffering, or loss. This time of year, Christians receive ashes from the burned palms of last years’ Palm Sunday.
Receiving ashes, and along with them, a reminder that we’re mortal and will die is a weighty subject for many. For me, this truth often serves as a bit of a wake-up call. My time here is limited. I am called to make the most of it.
I came from dust, and to dust I will one day return.
Although I didn’t receive ashes this past Wednesday, this yearly observance serves as a physical reminder that this life is short.
Ash Wednesday invites me to pause and remember that all the mundane, ordinary moments that make up the majority of my days are also making up my life.
The Measure of Ordinary Days
Recently as I was decluttering a bit of my office, I came across planners from 2019 and 2020. It’s not like me to keep these, so I spent a little time flipping through them, writing down dates and other notes that felt important.
There were lots of big things written down, especially in 2019:
- Trips taken – Cambodia, Thailand, Hawaii, and others.
- Events attended, like the Rugby World Cup.
- Dinners hosted.
- Family and friends who visited.
But there were also small things, and across both years these made up most of my days.
- Appointments kept.
- Books read.
- Cleaning tasks.
- Dinner menus.
- Shopping trips and date nights.
Despite the ordinariness of the to-do lists, I couldn’t help but recognize that this is my life. Each of these lists is a day that mattered, a day that I won’t get to relive. On the outside, it doesn’t feel like they amount to much. But each of those 731 days speaks to the life I’m building.
Each of those short notes shows the desires I have for this life and the steps I’m taking to make it a reality.
A life focused on family and community. Days spent keeping my family fed, our borrowed house cared for, our puppy dog healthy. These calendars mark projects completed, connections formed, and people loved.
Daily living in a pandemic might not feel very exciting but I’m learning how I fill my days matters.
When Ordinary Becomes Extra-ordinary
As I’ve gotten older and learned more about church history, it seems the church calendar knows what humans need. Periodically, we need to be reminded of our mortality.
It’s only in being faced with our finite existence on the Earth that we are shaken awake. In a world of routine, we need reminding to pay attention.
Ash Wednesday reminds me it’s not the quantity in our days but the quality.
I may not have finished the laundry, cleaned the counters, or vacuumed the floors. But it matters that I called a friend and connected over a coffee. Taking Fred on a long walk, stopping to admire the bare branches of the trees against the clear blue January sky, matters just as much as finishing a work task.
Making the Most of My Ordinary Days
Despite my best efforts, my days are often about productivity. I frequently ask myself, “What have I accomplished today?”
Maybe I should be asking myself, “Did I live the best I could today?”
Even the most mundane and routine days can become extraordinary with the right attention.
Too much routine can leave us numb to the magic and wonder of life. Ash Wednesday and Lent invite us to step outside of our normal routine, in the middle of the week, and reflect on the life we are living.
These days invite us to keep our eyes open for God.
This time every year reminds me that it’s not always what I’m doing, but how I’m doing it that makes the most impact.
This life is finite. My days are limited and it’s my job to make the most of them, but that often looks different than society says it should.
May we have the wisdom to determine the best way to spend our days. May we open our eyes to the extraordinary moments, even when productivity is fighting to have our attention. And may we have the courage to live each day to its fullest, even if that doesn’t look like how we think it should.
How are you making your days count?
