Do pictures ever trigger your sense of smell? The sweet smell of gardenias wafts through the air in my mind every time I see a picture of them. It was my favorite flower as a child. My granny had a gardenia bush in her front yard. We lived next door and everyday I would pass the flowering plant as I entered the front porch of her house. Over the years the bush grew as I grew.
When it was loaded with flowers I could smell the sweetness as soon as I left my house next door to walk to the school bus. It was like a loyal friend always there to greet me. Many times my granny would be standing by it waving me over. She would hand me a fresh blooming bud with a damp paper towel wrapped gently around the stem and tell me to give it to the bus driver or my teacher. I would proudly carry the white flower to it's intended recipient, stealing sniffs along the way, while trying not to touch the petals and turn them brown. For many years the bush stayed neck-and-neck with me as we grew. Then one day I realized I was taller. It was a jubilant day, it meant I was growing up.
Eventually harsh weather got the best of my granny' s gardenia bush. I have tried to grow gardenias for many years, unsuccessfully. I still notice them whenever they are present and take them as a positive sign when they show up in my life.
Last summer I went on a prayer journey. One day during the journey I was having a little bout with doubt. Had I done the right thing, was I in the right place, was I praying the right prayer? The day was sweltering hot. As I poured out my heart a breeze began to stir. As I prayed longer, reciting Scripture, the stirring turned into blowing and the flag above me began flapping loudly and proudly. When I stopped praying the wind stopped blowing and the flag lay lifeless against the pole. Each time, while I prayed the wind blew and the flag flapped. When I stopped praying, no wind. I was in Washington, D.C. on my knees praying under one of the American flags at the outside entry to the United States Supreme Court. As wonderful as that experience was the confirmation, that I was where I was supposed to be, came from the scent of an old familiar friend. As I walked back to my car, giving praise along the way, the wind began to gently stir and carry with it the sweet perfume of fresh gardenias. There in front of me was a gardenia bush. A tear trickled down my cheek. How awesome is the God I serve, He used a symbol special specifically to me to give me confirmation that I was doing His will that day.
Recently, life brought along a set of circumstances which required me to relocate. I was fretting over the move, not really wanting to leave my hometown again. But when I walked toward the entry of my new address the sweet smell of gardenias filled the air. On the left side of the front door a gardenia bush, taller than the eave of the house, laden down with delicate white flowers, was welcoming me home.
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