The Eternal Perspective of Ash Wednesday

“Dust you are, and to dust you will return.”

These were the words I heard over and over again at Ash Wednesday Mass. As I walked to the front, the woman distributing the ashes traced the sign of the cross on my forehead and spoke them again.

This truth is sobering. The world has existed for thousands of years, and our time in it is just a small fraction of that history. We are part of a much larger story—one that began long before us and will continue long after we are gone. Have you ever stopped to think about that?

Everything in this life is temporary. Our homes, our cars, our money—none of it will last forever. Empires have risen and fallen. Nations that once seemed invincible are now only footnotes in history. The only certainty in this life is that all things eventually come to an end.

But this reality shouldn’t depress us. It shouldn’t make us see life as meaningless or rob us of joy in the good things we have. Instead, it should give us the right perspective. If everything in this world is fleeting, then it shouldn’t consume our lives. It shouldn’t be our ultimate focus.

So, how should this truth change us? If everything in this world will pass away, then we must ask: What lasts forever? The answer to that question should shape the way we live.

Deep down, we all have a longing for permanence. We want our relationships to last, our joy to be unshaken, our lives to mean something beyond the here and now. That desire isn’t an accident—we were made for eternity. But instead of trying to make temporary joys last forever, we should seek the only One who is eternal. That One is God.

When we grasp this, it redirects our focus. It lifts our eyes beyond the shifting circumstances of life—whether they be moments of great joy or deep tragedy—and places them on what truly matters. It shifts our hope from what is fading to what is everlasting.

And this is what God wants for us. He wants us to experience true and lasting joy, not just in the temporary blessings of this world (though He generously provides those too), but ultimately in Himself. He has given us the greatest gift we could ever receive—His very presence. And when we recognize just how great of a gift that is, everything else seems smaller in comparison.

Of course, this perspective isn’t something we master overnight. It’s a daily battle. I certainly haven’t mastered it, and I don’t expect to anytime soon. But I am grateful for the moments—whether daily or weekly—when God reminds me of this truth. Those moments reset my heart and ground me in the reality that, in Him, I already have everything I could ever need.