simple truths

When our Creator sensed the first smell that was, I wonder What scent do you think it was? Was it like French Toast, or Hot Rolls with butter? Or maybe burnt gunpowder, fireworks in a cool July shower? Was it fresh dirt and dew drops? Or was it like lavender and mint? Perhaps it was what we got, our own Mother's scent? Absent of other senses to relate; whole immersion. Complete and impossible to translate. I gave smelling great thought, with my senses, all five, so I could explain here a smell, and yet still I cannot describe. Sweet, musky, burnt or acrid, these terms are not to define and will be known only by what our memories find. <script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js?client=ca-pub-2498525235436395"      crossorigin="anonymous"></script>

I am self-expression for the Almighty himself. To be complete, in full myself, in tragic,fatal totality is to be the best parts of God's greatest masterpiece. The sum of him. As I am the sum of all I have and made, said or did, so are we, this to him. I am the bittersweet creative juices that flow from the hard pressed fruits of my trials and error, being pruned by my creator as if those are his shears. Grown organically in his garden by the Father himself, on a vine personally tended by his good Shepard and Sun. The bugs and the blight, the rot and the strife, withered by fear the enemy wants to claim my place and my life, wants me clipped and tossed out, thrown to the ground. But He has foreknown the time I will be plucked ripe, then mashed down, where my living water turns to wine.