Where Did That Come From?

She tried to make herself as unobtrusive as she possibly could. It wasn't that she was afraid to be around people - it was more that she didn't know if she was doing the right thing. She clutched the small container to her breast as she hurried along.

Even now, just thinking of His words was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She was the one that had been sitting at His feet, listening intently to His words, barely hearing the clanking of the pots and pans in the kitchen. He had said something about Jonah - something about Him being in the earth for three days just like Jonah was in the belly of the great fish. She didn't want to believe her ears, but she was almost sure that He had said that He was going to die.

How could that be? Didn't He have the power to raise men from the dead? Why, her own brother had been raised from the tomb four days after he had died, and he was up and walking and praising God. He had been the one that had called her brother from the grave. How could someone like that die?

Now there was this big party to celebrate the works of this Man, and her brother was the invited guest. Because of her history and because she was a woman, she had been left off the guest list. But that didn't stop her. Even now she was headed there with a package that was feeling heavier and heavier with each step.

She paused. What was she doing? It had taken her life's savings - which hadn't been all that much, but would take her several years of hard work to replenish - just to purchase the box that contained the most exquisite and aromatic fragrance ever created. Some would think that this was an impulse purchase, but she had agonized for many days about what would be the right thing to do for Him. She tightened the sash on her robe and started again for the house on the hill.

She heard the sounds of the party long before she reached the gates to the elegantly designed mansion. As she hurried past the main part of the house she caught a glimpse of her brother, dressed in his best robe but still looking shabby amongst the group of learned men. But there was something about the way he held his head that almost gave him a regal look.

She found the way into the servants entrance, and walked quickly through the kitchen. She had learned that if she acted like she belonged in a place, people would be less likely to stop and question her. In the far corner she could see her sister busily cooking over a hot cauldron of spicy soup. Trying to keep from being seen, she stumbled over some pots of food that were being prepared, nearly falling onto one of the kitchen helpers that was busy setting out a plate full of delicacies. She waited for a scolding, but the harried girl was too frazzled to give her more than a scornful look.

It was like a maze, but she worked her way through the mass of humanity and into the inner part of the house. The guests were settling down around the low table, and as was the custom, her brother and the Master, the honored ones, were at the head of the table with their backs to her. She paused for only a moment, then dropped to her knees at the Master's feet.

She drew the alabaster box out from the folds of her robe and gently broke the fragile lid. Immediately the air around her was filled with the sweetest smell, and invigorated by the scent, she gently poured it on his feet. Using her long hair, she wiped the Master's feet, spreading the perfume with every stroke.

Suddenly she realized what she was doing. Where did this idea come from, she wondered? What was it that compelled her to give her all without consideration of the cost for the One who had saved her from a life of shame and death? She realized that only from her heart of love could such an extravagant gesture find a beginning.

By this time the other guests were noticing the aroma filling the air. Where could this fragrance be coming from, they asked. They immediately recognized the value and could only surmise that the host had generously provided such a pleasing fragrance.

But the host, sitting near the Master, knew what was happening. Where did she come from, he asked. He knew of her and her reputation - more intimately than anyone should know. And now she was pawing over this Man. Why, if He knew what manner of woman she was, He would never allow her to touch Him. But maybe He did know.... What kind of man would openly admit to knowing this kind of woman?

And the keeper of the coins, the master of the money bags, the greedy gatherer of the gold, immediately wondered: Where did a woman like this get that kind of money? If she was a true follower of the Man, she should have given me - er, I mean Him - all of the money that was used for such a frivolous and disgusting display of waste!

And the Man - He said something about how the story of her act would be shared around the world. That her ability to give from the heart unashamedly and without reservation was truly an act of love and worship. That she would be an example to all of how we should give everything when we worship Him.

And friends, that's that way I want to worship Him this week!

God bless you abundantly!