The heavenly Father is always present in the lives of His children. He sees every sorrow we endure. He also sees every sin that we commit, even if it’s only in our thoughts. He is always present. Yet, He is also always patient. God does not snap at us the second we turn from Him. He gives us time to see the error of our ways. He assures us that the door back to Him remains always open. By giving us room to share our struggles and shortcomings, He works in us the very repentance He desires and saves us from the judgment that would otherwise be ours.

The door to God and the glory he has prepared for us stands wide open. However, he has mapped out a very specific pathway to that door. It is not an easy one. As it did with Jesus, this route takes us through opposition, suffering, and even death. While our human nature may cause us to want to take a detour around these things, Jesus’ own life shows us that no detour is allowed. His cross came before his crown. The same path lies ahead of us. However, at the end of it, through the open door, we are offered a reward far superior to anything the world can offer.

Normally in a family everyone must do their part. . . pitch in. . . pull their weight. In God’s family, he assigns and accepts the work of one on behalf of all. In God’s house, God’s Son—our brother, Jesus—stands alone on the field of battle against our enemies in our place. He fights vicariously. He fights victoriously.

This week we see one man, Jesus Christ, stand against Satan. We simply sit and watch with eyes full of wonder and repentant faith. Because Christ fought that battle as one of us, he won that battle for all of us. The door to heaven stands wide open for those who believe in him.

Whenever someone accuses us of doing wrong, it’s easy to get defensive. We make excuses. “I’m not that bad.” We try and balance the scales. “Okay, that was wrong. But look at all the good I do!” We play the comparison game. “At least I’m not like him!” When our defenses go up, repentance is impossible.

God, however, has a strategy for lowing our defenses. He assures us that his door is open, and that his home is the place where we don’t need to pretend to be something that we’re not—perfect. Our Father does not ask us to come to him and confess our sin so that he might know what we’ve done. He already knows. He asks us to repent so that we might fully know what we’ve done. Only when we grasp the true weight of our sin, will we call out to God for mercy. When we do, God is always quick to forgive.

Ash Wednesday marks the begging of Lent, reminding us of our mortality and calling us to repent. The ancient practice of imposing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful is what gives Ash Wednesday its name. The church father Tertullian (c. A.D. 160-215) writes of the practice as a public expression of repentance and of our human frailty that stands in need of Christ. Ashes can remind us forcefully of our need for redeeming grace as they recall words from the rite of Christian burial—“earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”—words that will someday be spoken over us all.