The sky is the colour of ashes—       White and grey; The eaves drip icicle tears       falling away   My life is filled with ashes,       my mood is fey; Death upon death finds my heart       falling away   Across my forehead a cross      —charcoal dust— Reminds me that my frame       will soon rust   Over the shadow of death       a Cross Reminds me that life       can flame from loss   The kernel of wheat       must die,

When I was in high school, I really started to get serious at my faith because of a Calvary Chapel church in my area. While as an Anglo-Catholic my faith is quite different now, I greatly appreciate my brief sojourn with Calvary Chapel. I was reminiscing about those days recently and was reminded that one of the major distinctives of Calvary Chapel churches is that they do not pass a collection plate. Instead, churchgoers are