Tuesday: The Road Before You
The Ashes We Carry
The road stretches ahead, uncertain yet waiting. We do not step into Lent empty—we bring what has been, what lingers, what we have yet to release. Ash does not appear from nothing. It is what remains after fire has burned away the unnecessary. And yet, we still carry it—weightless but present, something we have not yet let the wind take.
Lent is not about mastering the path. It is about learning to walk—not with certainty, but with trust.
Today, we take account of what we hold. We notice the weight, even of what is already ash.
The Road Before You: A Breath and Awareness Practice for Entering Lent
This guided practice invites you into the threshold of Lent with breath, presence, and reflection. Through gentle awareness, you will notice what you carry—both seen and unseen—and allow space for what may no longer need to be held. Using a simple object or the weight of your own hands, this practice becomes a quiet witness to the journey ahead.
There is no rush, no need to fix or solve—only an invitation to breathe, notice, and walk forward with trust.
Take time today to reflect on the week’s Scripture from Matthew, to move, to breathe, and to be present to yourself and what is present to you.
We continue the journey together.
Sacred Invitation
Gather a small object—a stone, a leaf, a scrap of paper.
Let it represent something you carry. Hold it in your hand. Feel its weight, its texture. Breathe.
As you hold it, simply ask: What am I still carrying that no longer needs to be held?
No need to answer. Only notice.
Embodied Practice
Set the object down in a visible place. Just for today, let yourself not carry it. Let it remain where it is, a quiet witness to what you are learning to release.
Feel the lightness in your hands. Walk forward without it, even for this moment.
Closing Reflection
What have you been holding onto that is already ash?
Not as a question to solve, but as one to carry. Let it move with you, settling into your breath, your steps, your awareness. Let there be no rush to release it. Just the gentle knowing: You do not walk alone.