
Grammy's mind, failing with Alzheimer's, her life, short for our world. But if she could see beauty, and if it would make her smile... To the Father, will You breath Your breath and exhale a sweet fragrance through my gift?
And now, the roses home with my "I love you infinity" mom. She added pink to the white, a touch of her. I love her touch... And again... Father, will You breath Your breath and exhale a sweet fragrance through my gift?

Then Mary took about a pint[a] of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. (John 12:3)
Jesus, well pleased. And how I desire to be Mary, washing the feet of my Lord with tears and hair mine
And then...
And walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:2)
1 comment:
Beautiful. Love the memories of Grammy. My own sweet Grandma went home to be with Jesus fourteen years ago. I miss her still, but her memories warm my soul.
Post a Comment