With camera in hand I watched Charity bounce from flower to flower drinking in the scent like there was no tomorrow.
“Take a picture of me smelling the flowers!” she suggested. I took one.
“Take another picture…” I turned around to see her little noise buried in a cement slab.
I laughed. She laughed too and we walked on.
A stone could never match a spring flowers fragrance, no matter how hard you sniff it.
Flowers are easily crushed and broken, stones are not…
Flowers are fragrant, stones are not.
I would rather be fragile, easily broken, easily crushed but emitting fragrance for my Lord,
than indestructible and safe from harm, with none of His glorious scent releasing from my life.