I snip the herb down to the last leaf pair,
and fill a basket with my cuttings.
The smell of lemon lingers.
Dreams are cut down and gathered up by others.
What is left, but a whiff of what once was.
I fill the dehydrator.
It blows hot air, a gentle furnace,
and soon leaves are ready to be crumbled.
What was green is dry, crisp, dead.
Tired ambitions. Brokenness.
A soul, fired as clay.
And yet, the essence remains.
The jar is fragrant, full.
The herb has yet a purpose.
It has a use.
A pot is filled, and boils,
steaming, whistling happily.
Poured out, it covers the dried up herb.
It becomes a warm healing. A soothing tea.
When Living Water is poured out and in and around,
broken things, crushed people, are fragrant, full.
They are a soothing cup to another's need.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,
who comforts us in all our troubles,
so that we can comfort those in any trouble
with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
For Tuesdays Unwrapped today ~