She came to Him, quietly, with her alabaster jar.
Her face, sweet, like the oil held.
She came to Him, reverently, with her sin breaking in His heart.
Her hair, flowing, like His mercy.
She came to Him, helplessly, with her one gift.
Her repentance, spilling, like His forgiveness.
She came to Him, simply, with her offering.
Her humility, pouring, like His grace.
He said,
Let her come to Me.
Oh, she did.
She emptied her heart and her flask to Him,
The sin ::
so expensive to her soul,
Tumbling out with the oil unto His feet,
Giving it all
All::
All of it::
To Him, to take with Him:
To take with Him:
Please, take it from me, she yearns.
“She has done a beautiful thing…”
She wipes the King’s feet, dusty, worn, travelled, tired::
With her crown of locks::
He wipes her offenses away::
With His crown of righteousness.
This King::
Come to this world::
“…what she has done will also be told in memory of her…”
We?
Remembered?
Yes.
Oh, that gift of grace.
Our sins?
Oh,no…
Remembered?
No, my friend.
They are wiped away.
Wiped away with Him.
Oh, that gift of grace.
::::::::::::::::::::
And the aroma of her oil-gift filled the room.
And the aroma of His blood-gift imminent filled the room.
And the aroma bursting breaking into the night,
as it followed Him,
stayed with Him,
:: I think::
Through the breaking bread,
“Take, eat…for the forgiveness of sins…”
Through the blood-sweating prayer to His Abba,
“My soul is very sorrowful… Father… let this cup pass…”
Through the fleeing of his friends,
“Friend… do what you came to do…”
The scent of the
NEED of the world
continued with Him,
remained with Him,
stayed with Him,
Through the binding and the shouting and the mocking and the striking and the pulling and carrying and the mother:
watching, shattering::
and the crying, and the pushing, and the parading, and the jeering and the hurting and the scarring and the nailing and the bleeding and the
breathing:::
The final breath of
sacrifice…………….
when the aroma of LOVE broke free:::
:::unbound, uncensored, unkept,
Unleashed:::
and the fragrance of grace poured like oil over the world…
smelling:the:feathers 
Love this…as always.
On Mar 18, 2013, at 8:51 AM, smellingthefeathers wrote:
WordPress.com abrookemercier posted: “I had heard a sermon where the pastor had mentioned the proximity of the woman washing His feet with His crucifixion and how the smell of the oil may have followed Him… I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. …therefore took a pound of expensive o”
well said