Fragrant Vessel

Anxiousness tapping at every part of my flesh. Mind quiet. Stirring, Stirring. Time to write. Most often unaware of the words my fingers will form. Gazing, Gazing around the room. The scent next to me capturing my attention rising from the fragrant vessel next to my bed. Reaching over lured in by the smell. Transported back to the birth place of my tiny treasure.
Stepped into Paradise Sweets where my love affair with the caramel macchiato was rekindled. Out the door paradise in hand being captured by notes floating upon the ocean air. Carried to a sandy sanctuary where steel drums offered up sounds of praise and worship. Eyes becoming fixed upon tiny clay vessels. Not one resembling the other. Each complimented by tall clear bottles filled with oil. Inviting smile requesting I come closer. A dab on his left arm and a dab on the right. Frankincense on one Myrrh on the other. Senses becoming clothed in richness. Carefully choosing a turquoise vessel. Pouring two together within the clay making them one. Most assuredly I carry in my vessel the aroma of Proverbs 31.


I must share with you a bit about Lenzer, the artist behind those tiny fragrant vessels. He works with Youth Arts Corp. in Tampa walking hand and hand in the studio with his students. He said of his students that they have such strong aesthetic ability that needs to be caught before it turns into something else. He teaches them how to make a living selling their art. He also teaches them to recognize and take to the heights the ability God has given them. Listening to Lenzer speak on the beach that Sunday morning as steel drums played behind us, we were taught that everything has been touched by an artist.

A Sweet Encounter

She did not see me standing outside watching her take orders at The Florida Cracker Cafe on St. George Street in St. Augustine. I knew immediately that it was her, Jamie my best friend that I had not seen in seventeen years. Her face and movement still so familiar. As teenagers we shared a love for long naps, peanut butter & marshmallow sandwiches, extra gum and apple Boone's Farm. I remember in sixth grade she told me that she did not want to be my b/f/f anymore. I was devastated because I had written on my shoes “Jamie and Jennifer B/F/F.” I loved those shoes, so we officially became “Jamie and Jennifer X/B/F/F!”

I entered the restaurant with my family with much anticipation as she was coming in from the patio. I could see her customers requests swirling through her head until she looked up and our eyes met. “I thought I was seeing a ghost! Jenny you look exactly the same!” Both of us now momma's in our 30's each dawning a woman figure. We sat in her section, I taking the isle chair so I could touch her each time she'd walk by. Our eyes continuing to meet accompanied by teenage grins.

I have such an infinity in my heart for her. I can see in her eyes that she has cried many tears. Each of us having that in common. It was strange having her be our waitress! She did not mind tho. She flowed effortlessly table to table with such grace. My friend works hard. We did not engage in profound conversation during lunch. Our eyes spoke plenty penetrating the heart of one another. She and I hugged tightly as I exited back onto St. George Street as I had arrived. She kissed my right hand and traveled back to the patio where I first saw her. Our short encounter coming to an end announcing the beginning of the next chapter.

God, I pray that you are in pursuit of my precious x/b/f/f/. I want her to experience you enveloping and seeping into her as I have. I desire to be a pure and clean vessel with your aroma flowing through me onto her. A fragrant vessel captivating the senses. Lead her to your still waters where refuge is found beneath the cover of your protective wings. Draw her into your presence never letting her go.

2 Corinthians 2:14-16 14But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. 15For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.

My Friend James

What I anticipate more than anything when we travel is the wonder of who we will cross paths with. We always seem to meet someone along the way and at the point of destination willing to share a piece of their story with us. I am a firm believer that stories are manifested to be poured into one another. Walking along the shoreline looking out upon the sheer vastness of water I began to ponder this very thing. I imagined the ocean to be a collection of words...trillions of words floating along with others not their own. What a magnificent sight to behold! I have poured a few in there myself and those of people I've met along my journey. Some would say I am quite talkative, and I would say yes they are correct. My father has placed much in me, too much to contain within the bounds of myself. I have learned enough to know that they are not my own.

A slender man in his 50's carefully approached my love and I Sunday night along the Tampa Bay Riverwalk. He spoke to us from a distance, his posture that of someone who is not a stranger to rejection. The first words to come out of his mouth were “Excuse me.” It was obvious that he needed something from us. Most people would say that he wanted something, but one look through a clear lens and you would know right off that he was in need. We stopped and listened to him give us his rehearsed story I'm sure had been given more times than one can count. It only took a second for us to invite him along with us.

Walking slowly side by side engaged in conversation as new friends do he began to share with drive pieces of himself with us. We learned that Tampa has been his home for twenty years, Queen Elizabeth had visited there, his mother had fourteen siblings, and he was an only child. My heart smiled when I asked him if he worked and he said that he loves to use his hands doing odd jobs, but he really wanted a job that was straight. I asked what that job would entail and he unashamedly said that he aspired to be a garbage man...to Mr. James that would be a straight job!

Approaching Starbucks he hurried in front of us to open the door motioning us in first as any gentleman would do. I could see the faces of those sitting in their summer evening wear embracing Venti Lattes. What were we doing that was so strange? They too had brought friends for refreshment. Upon entering the tiny store Mr. James carefully inspected his sandwich and drink choices in detail. He settled on a turkey sandwich, organic green tea and a slice of lemon pound cake. I myself was quite impressed with his choice to go organic.

What I will remember most about my new friend is that he engaged us in the eye when speaking and gripped our hands firmly when thanking us repeatedly. He had more ambition than most, striving for stability in an unstable world. No one would charge him for curling up in a box, but to him that just isn't good enough. Staring into his eyes I could see much life left to behold. A rare gem of unmeasurable value in our midst.

I must admit that I do carry some what of regret now that I will probably not see him again. I regret not asking him to sit down with us so we could learn more about his journey. I would venture to assume that he isn't asked to sit and partake of meals on a regular basis. I just have to pray that his encounter with us was as special as ours with him. I am now pouring this story into others, but only after I swim in it a bit longer. The story of Mr. James offers me much needed refreshment. If you are ever in Tampa and see my slender friend please take him to our favorite spot Starbucks. I am proud to say that he is not just any homeless man. My friend has good taste buds and should not have to compromise just because he does not have a roof. Maybe he knows something we don't.

James 2:15-16 If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food and one of you says to them, "Depart in peace, be warmed and filled." but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does that profit?

Inspiration or Contradiction?

I remember my sons imaginary friend Rudy, the rodeo clown from Ft. Worth that came home with us after a trip to the rodeo. Rudy did not live inside of Austin's heart, but he kept him protected in his pocket. Rudy went everywhere with him. We would be in the car and all of a sudden a conversation would begin between Austin and his friend. Of course we could not hear what was on the other end of the conversation, but Austin obviously could and shared with us what was being said. What I remember most is that Austin would not change when Rudy “appeared” he would be himself as would Rudy. Austin remained that vivacious and funny little boy unique in all his ways, while Rudy continued to be his friend the rodeo clown whom inspired him. If I were to ask him today at fifteen who stuck closer than anyone he would certainly recall his days w/ Rudy.

Unlike childhood imaginary friends, the friend Jesus left with all who would believe is truly inside of us and will never leave. This friend, The Holy Spirit, moves and motivates. I personally say he is the breathe within me. Never putting me into a trance or turning me into a temporary robot just so he can speak. He allows me to be who I am yet flows through me. This is who Jesus spoke of that would come after his death speaking nothing but truth in and through us.

The Holy Spirit inspires us today, breathing into us just as he did with those chosen to write the bible. You nor I can make everyone believe this supernatural power, but as believers we must do as our name says and BELIEVE. Not just the parts our family and friends will understand, nor for the sake of our own mind. To truly believe in God is to believe that he cannot fail, and error cannot come from him. I have found that for me this belief came after experiencing God for myself.

God, Jesus and The Holy Spirit are one and from them comes inspiration, fully breathed truth that guides without dictation. This is Gods chosen method to communicate exactly what he needed us to know. Sharing with us what was and what was to become. Scripture clearly confirms this, “All scripture is given by inspiration of God (God Breathed)” as stated in 2 Timothy; “They were moved by the Holy Spirit” as stated in 2 Peter. The writers wrote from their own context, yet were breathed into by God and moved by The Spirit.

We all will meet people that will challenge us when we say that the bible is without error given to us by God himself through man. This is not a if it happens statement, but when it happens! I would like to tell you that what I am about to say came from my own mind, but it didn't. In researching I came across an article about contradictions in the bible and now feel quite armed. The article read, “There is only a contradiction if there is no possible way for both to be true. Only if it is impossible for both to be true do we have a contradiction.”

Deepening Love

In writing about deepening love I feel like I first need to define what love is to me. Love is patient, kind, unselfish, truthful, interacts, engages, unrestrained, and protective. Some say love is colorful, but from my perspective it is transparent. Love is unhidden, inerrant, multiplicative, transcendent, sovereign, approachable, impartial, and inspires.

During the last four weeks I've experienced persecution, judgement, disconnection, shame, burden, and fear. In that experience I have become awakened, refreshed, transparent, accepted, open, heard, and welcomed by a room full of strangers whom without my knowing held a piece of my story. Our stories not being unique, yet made more valuable as they poured into one another.

I have learned that it is acceptable in the eyes of my Heavenly Father to be fully who he has created me to be. My gifts no longer a burdensome curse requiring alteration to enter a room. They are for him to be used for his glory, not to be judged. No longer does fear have its sharp grip on me. No longer am I held captive by my captors. I love more because I am free to love without expectation or restraint. Love himself pursues me and I humbly take my place as servant unto his will.

God saved a space for me at the same time creating space in my heart so I would have the ability to love more. Our first encounter years back I was drawn in through a state of brokenness, feet bleeding from the jagged ground I played upon. Now, we meet again in a room full of like minded individuals that only God could piece together with purpose. When they speak I am inspired to love and forgive completely. Self condemnation met inspiration and I have been renewed.

Let me introduce myself!

My family called a one room shack with no indoor plumbing home for many years. We took baths in an above ground pool from K-Mart. I remember getting off the bus in first grade and hearing someone say "I bet you live in a big house back there!" I just smiled, hopped off and began walking down the long tree lined driveway thinking "If she only knew." My father a carpenters foreman received a better job and we left that one room shack and headed to Jackson, Ms. I thought we had moved into a mansion because I had never seen a trailer with stairs leading up to the kitchen. Those stairs in my childish eyes were magical. They lead us to the white sandy beaches of Florida into an elevator that lead us up to the 8th floor of a beach front condo with a swimming pool and balcony. I have come to realize that some people define themselves by collections or educational achievements, but for me it was zip codes and time zones.

My husband Tony and I met in the summer of 1989 in a small Georgia town. I can remember so clearly sitting on my Nanaw's living room floor brushing my hair when in walked the cutest boy I had ever seen. Later that day he decided to act as if his family needed to borrow a stick of butter just so he could talk to me. We went swimming that day and over the course of the summer we walked many miles up and down the dirt roads. I thought something was wrong with me because unlike other boys he did not try and touch me. I shared with him the real reason I was there for the summer was because I had tried to commit suicide and he shared with me the love of Jesus. I look back now and see that God had a plan for us far greater than our thirteen year old minds could imagine.

Seventeen years later God brought us back to that small Georgia town after traveling many miles across the country collecting many zip codes of our own. It was no longer just the two of us though, this time our son Austin was with us and almost a teen himself. I would like to say that we took God along during those years, but we didn't. We left him on that dirt road along with the forgotten conversations of our teenage years. It still amazes me that God brought us back where we started to show us that though we may have left him that he did not leave us.

There is so much more I could tell you about who I am, organizations I am involved in, and where I've been, but I must admit that most of those things are only who I think I am or have been at some point. I do know that I no longer look to stairs as a magical place that brings me up in the world or zip codes to define who I am. I am now a thirty four year old woman who is on a journey to find out who I really am. Deeper understanding of who God is that met me on that dirt road so long ago and then brought me back there again. My heart is open, my eyes wide, and my mind prepared to be stretched beyond imagination. Let the journey begin.....