Bus stop ashes (Ash Wed, part one)

Yesterday, I sat with Margaret (Mission pastor at Shobi's Table) and Brie (Founding Mother/Elder at Humble Walk)* at the bus stop on West 7th and Randolph Ave. We know this corner well---we've been working it for years. Yes, you read that right. For two years, Brie and a rotating crew of other folks served coffee and donuts every Friday across the street from this stop. These early Friday mornings led to regulars and familiar faces and a bus stop community. Yes, it's totally weird--and completely normal. Why wouldn't we offer hospitality on our sidewalk narthex? So, when Ash Wednesday rolls around--it just makes sense that we would offer ashes. True, yesterday it was a bit slow in the ash department. But we were there--an odd, gentle visual reminder that we are broken. Broken hearts, broken lives, broken bodies. This is not new information to the people I know--most of us are weeeeell aware of our brokenness. However, there is power is acknowledging it and to being reminded that we are forever and always in the care of Jesus. *I am hereby acknowledging that this is a hilarious and terrible and perfect way to describe Brie's life at Humble Walk. She's young and awesome--and has been part of the community since the first couple weeks. bus stop ash wed