I was at the beach last week and every time I walked from our house to the beach I smelled a spice drawer. This is, of course, an unusual smell at the beach. Salt, sand, sunscreen, fish…even, yeah maybe? But a spice drawer?! At first I just thought it was the intense nose I have being pregnant. I smell every single thing. But time and time again going from our house to the beach I continued to smell a spice drawer.
I started asking the Father what He was trying to show me. “What do you want to say to me about this, Abba?” I didn’t hear anything from Him for several days but continued to ask.
One morning in particular, the grief of loosing Zion, being at his favorite place in the world, and a lot of other places in my heart of deep pain suddenly surfaced. I wept all morning on the beach. I’ve learned the beauty of weeping and power of our tears. I was headed back to the house for lunch and asked Father once again, “What do you have to say about this smell?” And this time He answered. “I’m stirring up my spices in you.”
I immediately was reminded of this passage in Song of Songs I had studied. The north wind represents the trials and adversity that refines us like fire. It feels as if that has been the story of my life the past several years, especially the last one, loosing Zion. The south wind represents the tender compassion of Abba and the mild breeze of refreshing and blessing. It feels like this miracle pregnancy is just that. It takes both the winds of testing and blessing to bring about the aroma of Jesus in our lives.
The Father was telling me, although painful, He was blowing on my heart, stirring up the spices inside of me so that He could enjoy them. When He blows on our hearts to shake and stir things around, we feel unstable and unsure, but the fruit of the stirring is our hearts becoming beautiful gardens for Him to dwell and enjoy.
We welcome your stirring today, Abba. Blow upon our hearts, spare nothing, as you make our hearts gardens of beautiful spices You delight in.