Baby smells aren’t always that pleasant. Johnson and Johnson may have very well cornered the market on making a baby smell better after a bath, dusting, and moisture lathering… but you can’t mimic the dearness of new life.
For a moment, no matter your situation; mother of many, mother of none, mother of one, mother of temporary, mother of a mother, mother of a son… grandmother, godmother, aunt, sister… friend – stop for a moment and consider the scent of a baby.
Behind the ear.
In the crook of the neck.
A sweet, soft shoulder.
A never been walked on foot.
Imagine the smell.
No matter what you face today, no matter how horrific – this tiny smell good form is the form that your God came to earth as.
To reconcile you to Him.
What God is this?
One whom I did not consider, of all the faces I have attributed to Him I neglect to remember this gentle giant. Did He know how long I would over look Him? And still… this is the form He chose.
I can no longer stomach the brimstone and fire theology. And while the New Covenant did not begin until this Man-baby suffered, died, and was buried… He first showed His face in the easiest form.
Tiny fists balled greedily to suckle.
Velvet cheeks and bum.
Cashmere silk jet black hair.
Smooshed ears and slightly coned head from that tight space.
Pooched tummy and tiny toes.
And curious, yet all-knowing black eyes – wise beyond the ages, completely dependent on the face of a virgin.
How long have I believed He couldn’t be tempered? How much time have I wasted believing Him cruel? How many lists have I made in an effort to impress Him?
And failed, and counted Him mad…
This Christmas I want only this: the vision of my God, a God whose name is Mercy, to wash over me and stay – the remembrance that the blood of this tiny babe would work in the redemption, my soul. That He loves so greatly and believes so much in my righteousness – He came into the world an infant.
He breathed in the cool and musty air of a stable, and cried the cries of the broken, and breathed out the scent of Heaven for the salvation of the world.
As we count down the days to the celebration of His birth let us not forget how much He truly loved the world, that this most treasured baby boy would be offered up while we were still sinners.
Good, good Father.
Beloved and precious Son.
Flawless guiding Spirit… Heaven’s majestic scent.
“This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Luke 2:12
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami
[Tweet “You cannot mimic the #scent of #heaven #merrychristmas”]
You might also like: The Gift I Will Not Give
Check out my friend Kelly Balarie’s new book: Fear Fighting