The Fragrance of the Knowledge of Him

March 26, 2016

The Fragrance of the Knowledge of Him


I see myself standing at the foot of the empty cross. I am soaked in my own tears, trembling as I touch the cross and I am attentive to the roughness of the wood and the fresh blood stains on them.  He was just there moments before and I see the blood on the ground, covering the blades of grass that are easily blowing in the breezes that tell of the storm coming.  As I run my fingers over the wood, I receive a blood-stained splinter into my hand and I am pierced.  I feel the mournfulness of the heavens all around and the air is full of solitude as I am becoming alive through his pain that has reached me.  

 

I see inside myself a sewing room where the beautiful, costly materials for a wedding dress are being collected. The Holy Spirit is my tailor and I daily receive fittings.  The needles used are the splinters from the cross that were once in my hands.  The thread is blood red in the machine but becomes white as the needle enters the fabric over and over until the garment is perfectly finished. It is Jesus sacrifice that makes my wedding day with him possible. And with each fitting, my heart soars higher and higher with the anticipation of his coming for me, his adorning me with the treasures of my heart that I have been caring for in the secret places in me.  

 

My secret places consist of delicate flowers whose petals long to fall off of me, one by one, into the hand, the sacred hand of my Savior God.  I see him cup all of those delicate, fragrant petals in his hand, gently and purposefully pressing them in The Book to remember me there and to release my fragrance. And as he squeezes The Book closed, I see blood seeping out of the sides and into his hands. For my pedals are made of the blood that was shed for me, His life sacrificed so that I could have His life abundantly coursing through my veins.  

 

Any beauty that I exude from my delicate flowers were first nurtured and grew in the ground of his death, where the water and the blood that spilled from his side are drunk into the stems of me. And I bloom and blossom with the fragrance of the knowledge of Him.

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