True worship in Spirit that is a pharmacy of perfume not mixed with entertainment. Jars of gold filled with fragment odors of poured out prayers of Saints in “OUR” Father’s presence set as incense, crushed spice, whispered to You.
A faint wisp, like a breath of fresh air we breathe associated with death and dying. A sweet smelling scent of sacrifice unto You “OUR” Father coming out of evil imaginations from “OUR” youth, an aroma of fresh wind, fresh fire, fumes it’s essence in a trace of breath in the death of Your Saints, a funeral parlor scent, unique unto itself; a frail sniff of a wisp that wafts whispering death.
Aromas around Saintly sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto You which is reasonable considering all we owe You. A faint waft of clean air before You that breathes a never again odor of sweet smelling sacrifice once delivered to the Saints a sniff of the future promised place prepared for us to “BE”. Holy puffs of smoke that burn in gifts of courageous conquerors over the death of Your Saints.
We are delivered from the evil one’s fire to test every “BE”liver of the life of Your One and only Son again that lives in us. “O death where is your sting, O grave where is your victory?” This is the victory that overcomes the world; “OUR” endless faith!
Sanitized air freshener in “OUR” Father’s presence; the fresh scent of ironed out wrinkles of linens unspotted before the world, fresh fragrance of new cloth. Frankincense and myrrh cannot “BE” compared to the fragrant essence of Your Son’s death in us to Your nostrils!