A Scented Letter

T

hrough the slit in the top of my mailbox, I could tell that several letters had arrived during my absence.  Nothing can rival the pure joy of returning home from a long vacation and finding not one, but several letters waiting to be opened.  As luck would have it, several of my friends stopped by for a visit and they were present when I opened my mailbox to withdraw all the cards and letters left there by the mailman during my two-week jaunt in Europe.  It was a moment I wasn’t to live down for a long time.

During the spring of 1984, I visited Spain, Italy, Austria, and Germany.  Since the other members of my group already had travel plans, I journeyed alone, seeing things I had only read about in books, visiting places that beforehand were only pictures or images in my mind.  The journey afforded me many experiences and taught me many things about myself I would not have learned otherwise.

However, vacation came to an end and we had all met at one of my friend’s apartments to compare notes and swap stories about our travels.  On our way to a small café, we stopped by my place so I could check the mail.  As I mentioned earlier, the box was full so naturally I was very excited.  As I placed my key into the receptacle and unlocked the box, a wonderful aroma filled the foyer.  As I foraged through the letters and cards in the box, the odor intensified.  For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure of the origin but one of my friends quickly pointed it out.

That wonderful smell was coming from a rather thick envelope I held in my hand.  It was from a good friend back home but why she sent me a scented letter was beyond me.  All I knew was the guys really had a good time at my expense, ribbing me about receiving a “smelly” letter from a girl who obviously thought I was something special.  As it turns out, she kept her stationery in her perfume drawer and the bottle turned over, soaking everything in the drawer with perfume.  I, of course, never shared this small detail with the guys.  I simply played along with their version of the story.  To this day, I can still smell the perfume contained in that letter.  It filled the entire foyer of our apartment building and all the guys standing with me were affected as well.  The aroma was very pleasing and affected everything and everyone coming into contact with it.

The book of Exodus reminds us of the important role incense played in the sacrificial system God established for the people if Israel.  Exodus 30:7-8 describes the altar of incense and how Aaron, the high priest, was to attend to it on a regular basis. "Aaron must burn fragrant incense on the altar every morning when he tends the lamps.  He must burn incense again when he lights the lamps at twilight so incense will burn regularly before the LORD for the generations to come.”

This altar sat right in front of the curtain separating the holy place from the most holy place, or the Holy of Holies.  Aaron was to burn incense on this altar continually, keeping incense before the Lord always.  The incense for this altar was a special mixture and represented constant prayer before the Lord. Anyone entering the Tabernacle, would smell the incense and I imagine that Aaron would carry the aroma of that mixture on his clothes so that the fragrance could be enjoyed by all those around him.

This leads us to a very important question about our own relationship with God.  Is there a constant, pleasing aroma arising to our Heavenly Father?  Does the altar of incense of our prayer life continually put forth an aroma that is pleasing to God?  Do others enjoy the perfume in our lives that comes from being in God’s presence?  When our hearts are opened and those around us examine our lives, do they receive the pleasing aroma of God’s presence?  Are there any scented letters in your heart’s mailbox today?