Fresh Fragrance
“Mmmm! What a beautiful fragrance!” I reflected as the scintillating aroma pervaded my senses. “There has to have been a Creator who crafted this masterpiece!”
The cream-petaled magnolia tree boasted its distinguished place in the late summer garden. As I carefully broke the budding foliage, fresh dew dripped on to my skin.
The bloom took a prominent position on my lounge table. Stooping to inhale the citrusy fragrance of this exotic beauty, I sensed a familiar whisper of Holy Spirit.
“I want to open you up to release My fragrance!”
“Fragrance … aroma … my Beloved’s fragrance!” I pondered. “Even from the painful places?!”
Later, while reflecting on my encounter with the silky wonder, now releasing its perfume from the vase, I reminisced. Mixed aromas had accompanied my life. Yet in the midst of the pain there was often a sweet balm of His Presence. I knew that suffering and pain oozed myrrh, the sacrificial love of Yeshua, my Saviour.
“That’s like your life,” the familiar voice whispered into my spirit. “You’re My creation–a flower blooming, opening up to Me. Look closer!”
I peered into the long, thin, creamy filaments lying on the awakened petal. Red patches covered their tips.
“The stamens are like the fresh revelation that I want to release through your mouth and hands. I have given you a pen to describe My heart. The stamens’ red tips reflect My holy fire to burn into the landing space–people’s lives.”
“Yes, I want to be Your scribe,” I responded.
“There’s extravagantly more to release with each unfolding petal as you yield to Me and allow Me to reveal Myself through you. The fresh dew is Heaven’s rain; the essence of the flower’s nectar comes from intimacy as you walk and wait with Me. Come often to My secret place–don’t let the aroma become stale.
“Will you allow Me to share My fragrance through you?” My Beloved invited.
I want to be His fresh fragrance.
[The Shulamite Bride to the Bridegroom-King]
Then may your awakening breath blow upon my life until I am fully yours.
Breathe upon me with your Spirit wind. Stir up the sweet spice of your life within me.
Spare nothing as you make me your fruitful garden. Hold nothing back until I release your fragrance…Song of Songs 4:16 The Passion Translation.
Barbara
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