I noticed a tiny jonquil blooming in my garden yesterday. The color stood out amongst all the dark and dead foliage surrounding it, but what stood out the most was its fragrance. How could such a tiny flower pack such a punch? I planted these bulbs last fall in my garden and also in a flowerpot for my grandmother to enjoy on her deck. She had browsed the Old House Garden catalog with me and couldn’t wait to see if these were the same fragrant flowers she had enjoyed while growing up.

My grandmother unexpectantly passed away on December 23. While I miss her terribly I am surrounded by constant reminders of her influence upon my life. She was, as 2 Corinthians 2:15 describes, the aroma of Christ to me. She walked the walk and loved me with an unconditional love like no other, unaware that she was setting the stage for my being able to not only receive God’s unconditional love for me, but to also believe it wholeheartedly. Ah, the fragrance of life.

So, what’s that I smell? Is it the aroma of Christ? Am I walking in the Spirit or in the flesh? Do I possess the kind of unconditional love much like that of my grandmother? The kind that will stand out among a dark and dying world? Tough, but necessary questions I have to constantly ask myself. How about you?

Tiny House on the Hill

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