Sights and smells from Sunday

Vibrant.  

Glorious.  

This fall, my brain is in constant see-saw mode between these two adjectives.  It seems like all of life, even in the ritual dying, is tingling with His presence.  I want to remember it.  Just these regular days when I can choose to live in the glorious, vibrant grace I've been given...on a Sunday in October.

The glorious day began with the smell of Mainbain frying fresh pork sausage, and dabbling around with a vibrant new smoothie recipe.

 

The morning was punctuated by the five year old's vibrant need to accessorize his fashionable church duds with a shark tooth necklace.  And allowing me to inhale one of life's most glorious scents: freshly shampooed boy-hair.

Church is full of glorious sights and smells: 

fluttering flame altar candles, and vibrant prayers you can smell as well as see: Incense.

The glorious comfort of ritual: kneeling for prayer. And the vibrant smell of old books mixed with generous amounts of furniture polish.

 Vibrant spiritual food: taste and see (and smell) that He is gloriously good. 

Where the  glorious, vibrant see-saw intersects the grace I've been given...

Lib