On that fateful night, in the oft-heard garden of Gethsemane...
..as He was kneeling there...face down...droplets of bloody sweat trickling down His face, onto the ground before His face...
..with the weight of the whole world upon His shoulders, His humane heart contemplating the prospect and reality of being left all alone and dis-acknowledged, His physical body to be handed over and subjected to overwhelming tortures, the corners of His eyes catching the sight of His ignorant sleeping disciples...knowing the cup of pain and heavenly rejection that is right infront of the path He has chosen....
...out of all these...from within a broken, crushed heart....was there a fragrance out of all these...a fragrance that pleases the Father, that speaks of honor and surrender, a pain with a purpose...
I can feel it. The bitter feel of the heart choking the throat...from deep within a heavy stinging pain rising. At times...breatheless...the sobs come as an outward overflowing of the indescribable pain...it releases, but at the same time bring along such searing pain together with realisation of reality. When the weight brings you down to your knees, your weak hands grasping tightly....for..an answer? A response? A release?
Doors....familiar doors slammed shut in the face, hurt so much more than I thought.
What more can be said? I don't know....but I wonder....
...is there fragrance out of all these?
