Even when Your jar is empty and after all you’ve been through, Jesus is anointed in Your life. The essence of scent from the woman’s perspective of Matthew 26:6-13:

I enter the house quietly, yet I hear my heart pound like thunder. The room hums with conversation, sandals shifting, voices rising and falling. And there is my Jesus. Oh how I love Him! He is so near that I can see the softness in His eyes and the strength He so confidently carries in His posture. I clutch the alabaster jar tighter. It is costly. It is precious. It is all I have saved for something meaningful… and suddenly I know: this moment is that meaning.

I kneel. I cry in repentance at his feet, feeling my tears drip as a cleansing rinse on my Savior’s well-worn feet. I dry the tears, mingling in with His forgiveness I receive while washing His feet, an act of service and love.

The stone floor presses into my knees, grounding me in the reality of what I am about to do. My hands tremble — not from fear of the crowd, but from the overwhelming love stirring in my chest. He has seen me. Known me. Received me without shame. How could I not pour out everything?

I open the jar. And my hands form a faucet of a fountain of beautiful release flowing towards His head.

The fragrance rushes out, thick and sweet, filling the room before anyone can stop me. My hands continue to move instinctively, pouring the perfume over His head, letting it run down, letting it honor Him in a way that words never could. I’m still weeping knowing I belong to Jesus.The scent clings to my skin. It soaks into His hair. It settles into the air like a silent prayer of acceptance.

Voices interrupt — sharp, critical, practical. But I’m used to that by now. I’ve been pushed into silence before. I hear:

“Wasteful.”

“It could have been sold.”

“Given to the poor.”

Their words sting, but I do not pull back. Love does not calculate. Love recognizes worth and responds with surrender. I am not trying to be impressive. I am simply undone by my encounter with my Lord.

Jesus speaks.

His voice steadies the room and steadies my heart. He defends me — not just my act, but my intention. He sees what I meant, what I felt, what I offered. He names it beautiful. He receives it as preparation, as devotion, as love poured out at the right time.

In that moment I realize: the aroma rising in the room is more than perfume. It is worship. It is surrender. It is the scent of my life in Christ, regarding His worthiness and immense act of forthcoming love for the world.

And I understand something deeper, I did not anoint Him because I fully grasped what He said was coming. I anointed Him because His Spirit of love compelled me. Because my soul recognized His worth before my mind understood His suffering, I am free and forgiven.

The fragrance lingers long after the jar is empty. It clings to Him. It clings to me. It clings to the memory of everyone present.

Love leaves a scent. It is peace in the knowing, the knowing of Jesus.

Lord Jesus,

Let my life become like that broken alabaster jar. Not guarded nor measured. Not held back. Teach me to recognize You so deeply that I pour out my devotion without hesitation. Let my worship be sincere, not strategic. Costly, not convenient. When others misunderstand, steady my heart. When I feel small, remind me that love offered to and for You is never wasted. May the aroma of my life — my prayers, my obedience, my affection towards others while sincerely following You, cling and unify us and point others toward Your beauty and peace in forgiveness. And when my hands tremble again, give me courage to pour out all that I am, until the whole world breathes in the sweet aroma of Christ. Amen

Send me an email at cindasaid@icloud.com if you would like a free Lectio Divina on this story.