When Hubby came home from work yesterday, the first thing he said is "you're smudged." The little boys and I had gone to the noon Ash Wednesday service and I had the ashes on my forehead.

I doubt it was meant in a negative way. I'm not sure if it's because he was raised without "doing" Ash Wednesday or Lent or if it's because he's a boy and doesn't always think things through. Sometimes, he doesn't realize how things will sound or how I'll perceive them.

At first, I was upset. Was that the best thing to say right off the bat? Was he mocking me? Was he seriously not aware of what it was for?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized he had actually said something fairly profound.

I am smudged.
I am not perfect. I am not close to being perfect. I make mistakes. I don't always say the right thing or stand up for what I know is right. I can be too controlling. I have doubts. I sometimes just want to lock myself in the bathroom alone. I get tired. I don't always help the homeless man outside Wal-Mart. I put myself before others. I put my family before my own needs. I am human.
I am smudged.

In spite of my smudged-ness, I am loved. By my children. By my husband. By my family and friends.
Most of all, I am loved by God. He loves me regardless of my smudges.