These sweet smelling blossoms greet me this morning.
Waking early to enjoy the cool dampness in a tropical place; familiar, but unfamiliar.
Still Asia, but an Asia that feels so different than my Asia home.
I sit and soak up the fragrances of fallen flowers, covering the ground with their beauty.
These beauties soon to be
squashed under sandals and swept up and stolen by the grounds keeper's garbage.
I am reminded that:
Fallen Flowers Smell Sweet too.
In the midst of my weaknesses, hang-ups, lack of capacity or competency...
in the midst of the sickness and sorrow that often weighs me down...
even though I am fallen and sinful,
even though I am fallen and sinful,
I am still a distant aroma of God's goodness, pointing others to look up to the source.
It is often faint and diluted, but just the same, very real and very present.
A testimony to the towering tree, a stately presence in the garden square.
Trust, rest, peace. Faithfulness and Obedience.
His Sweetness daily seen.
His Sweetness daily seen.
So clearly demonstrated in those saints around me,
like my missionary colleague who is weary of chemo.
And sometimes hints glimpsed in me,
this worry-fighting mom who is sad to be far away from her sick kids.
My cancer-fighting friend,
in jaw-dropping, tear-filling ways
My cancer-fighting friend,
in jaw-dropping, tear-filling ways
and me,
in minute, easy to miss ways.
in minute, easy to miss ways.
We seep beauty and fragrance.
God's goodness and grace proclaimed.
Sweet Savior Scents.
