Some years ago I was given a candle for Christmas called, “ Fallen Snow.” When I lit it, the scent was nothing like the clean, crisp smell of real snow, but something better. The fragrance triggered something intangible within me. Somehow it reached into the memory of the happy years before our son’s death. The aroma was comforting, even joyful.
I decided to try to find more of these candles. The search proved futile, and after many inquiries, I gave up. So I lit the candle sparingly, to make it last longer in my early morning quiet time. The lovely container looked like snowflakes as the candle glowed through the glass.
Sometimes, in the dark with only the flicker of that light, it would be a reminder to me that even in sorrow, there could be joy. As I read the verse in 2 Cor. 6:10, “ as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”
Yes, Christmas was a time to celebrate, even when the heart felt sad at the reminders everywhere, of the one who would not be with us. But I had to focus on the present, and that required shopping for gifts.
I was quietly hoping to find my candle as I shopped, but there were so many candles displayed ,who had the time? After all, it was just a candle.
However, one wintry day, I visited a store I had never been to. I noticed in a display a lone little candle by itself. It was in a white hobnail jar. I picked it up, and just sniffed it and I couldn’t believe it. It was my Fallen Snow! But with a different name. I realized then that the scent could be found! And like a snowflake, no container the same.
In the next several years, I kept finding it in unusual ways, as if God was replenishing my one jar of oil as He did in the bible story for the widow.
Just this week, I discovered it in a very small blue bottle, and it was named , Rejoice! I wouldn’t have even bothered to smell it, but that name drew me. And I know Who drew me.
Yes, I can rejoice at Christmas. I can rejoice every day in fact. My grief is not who I am. There is a God who is so personal, and ever present, that He gives me a scented candle to remind me,that even when death steals my loved one, or tries to my joy, it won’t succeed, because Someone greater than my sorrow is watching over me. The One I celebrate at Christmas, and every day.
Jill Smoot
jonquiljill@aol.com
