Fragrance from the Holy Spirit
 
The fragrance of cinnamon reminds me of making cinnamon toast with my younger brother late at night decades ago. The aroma of gingerbread cookies baking reminds me of my mother. Today my husband and I are empty nesters in Florida. Our household aromas are mostly morning coffee, biscuits, and bacon.
 
On December 20th 2014 after a long illness of strokes, pulmonary disease, and dementia, my father passed away at age 90 in New Orleans. He was a pretty good dad who loved his 6 children and his 16 grandchildren.  As a flight surgeon in the Air Force for several years, he seemed to be away more than present at home so when he was home I would sit in his lap after dinner soaking in his affection – and often his cherry tobacco pipe smoke too.  I was 5 then. The distinctive fragrance of that flavor of tobacco would take me back there instantly.
 
Dad was a man of faith who had accepted Jesus as his savior at age 13 in a church in Pass Christian, MS. With six children, my folks had faced many lean times financially. He always told us – “the Lord will provide,” with each and every trial our family faced through 13 moves all over the country. Dad was a man of prayer.
 
For one year before his death, my relationship with him had been a bit strained over some family relationship issues.  The morning he left this earthly realm, my brother in New Orleans called to let me know.  I felt numb, and for some reason, betrayed.  I had not had the chance to tell him goodbye. My sister was there, and she did. One of my brothers did. But I had not. That week I had had a houseful of guests in preparation for Christmas with little time for phone calls. For hours I was in a fog, feeling nothing.
 
At 4:00 pm that day, my husband and I went in our den and closed the door to pray and think. We prayed. We found a photo of Dad taken at our wedding. I wanted to post it on Facebook to honor him.  As I was typing what I wanted to say about my father, the whole room filled with the strong smell and incense of cherry pipe tobacco – we could almost see the smoke!  Tears filled my eyes; I broke down, and had a good cry on my sweet husband’s shoulder. I believe the Holy Spirit had given me the gift of this fragrance, assuring me that my father had indeed hugged me one last time, and had bid me goodbye – not forever, but just for now.
 
“Think of my prayer as sweet-smelling incense, and think of my lifted hands as an evening sacrifice. “  Psalm 141:2   
“For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish”
2 Corinthians 2:15
 
Dear Heavenly Father,
I hope my prayers are like fragrant incense with a sweet savor. Thank you for my earthly parents and for pleasant memories. Thank you that you speak to each one of us in very personal and unique ways.

Isaiah 61:10 I delight greatly in the Lord; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

My filthy rags of countless sin,
Rarely letting light within,
Racing after worldly pleasures,
Flaunting many froward measures,
Seeking peace and joy in vain,
Liking self I did but feign.

My brother's life did testify
To show me that I lived a lie.
The Holy Spirit's hammer crushed
My pride, my lust, and self-will hushed.
On my knees I turned around
As my heart my Saviour found;
Giving me His pure white shawl
For your soul He gave His all.

Psalm 91:9-11
“Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place,
There shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent. For He will give His angels charge over you to accompany and defend and preserve you in all your ways.” (Amplified Bible)

Many years ago, when our son was age two, Curt and I lived in a quad-type townhouse in Ft. Pierce, Florida (4 units per building). The whole structure was surrounded by concrete block privacy walls that opened onto an enclosed patio - one per unit.  The townhouse neighborhood was not protected by any type of fence yet, being a brand new development in 1986. Our townhouse faced a city street and across the street from us were single family homes, mostly serene, with the exception of the one that faced our privacy wall. That older couple had a teenage grandson living them, and on the weekends that teenager held band practice in their garage.

Curt was working at WTVX then, anchoring the 6 p.m. and 11 p.m. weekday newscasts. With a toddler in the condo, I usually fell asleep before Curt would get home.  One Friday night, that teenager across the street was having a rather loud party in his grandparents’ house.  A pertinent detail here is that their driveway was across the street from our concrete privacy wall.  Relieved that their noise had not awakened my toddler son, I tried to sleep, but could not. So I opened my Bible to Psalm 91 and read out loud:  “There shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your dwelling.”  I repeated that verse over and over until I finally drifted off to sleep.

At 2:00 a.m. I heard a very loud crash.  Curt and I bolted out of bed.  What we saw was a bit shocking - a car from across the street had pummeled through our neighbor’s concrete wall into their patio - the patio right next to ours.  Yes, a car from that teenage party.  Happily, no one was hurt.

I thanked the Lord that the car had missed our dwelling.  Naturally, I felt badly for our neighbors. However, I could not ignore this “coincidence” that the car had missed our patio/townhouse on the same day that I had read the Psalm 91 promises out loud.  As you may have guessed, I do not believe in coincidences, just in the goodness of God.