Can I speak words with meaning?
It’s hard to believe that I was once younger than I am now. I sometimes feel like a infant, not thinking, just experiencing. Once when I was in the pre-infant state known as pre-adolescence I sat in the back of church during the Easter service. I was so overwhelmed with the very idea that Christ died on the cross for my sins that I wept through the whole service.
Today I had the option of anointing my head with ash in the shape of the holy cross. I didn’t. Not because it was strange or new, not because I didn’t understand it, but because I didn’t feel like it would mean as much if it was on me. Because I didn’t think that I could be sincere about it.
Am I ever sincere?