Unsplash — Igor Ovsyannykov

VESSELS OF CLAY.

It had been a Christmas Gift. That ridiculously expensive bottle of “Designer” perfume. I used it sparingly, dab on the wrists, dab behind the ears, dab on the chest, I wanted it to last.

Then, in one single moment, it was over. I had executed one of those large arm movements for which I’m known and no, there’s no Italian in my ancestry. But my language would’ve done an Italian fishwife proud (a la Operatic Style) as my sleeve caught the perfume bottle.

It smashed into shards on its way down to the carpet and my practically full bottle of perfume was no more.

I would live with that sweet heavy ambergris smell for weeks. Reminding me of my stupidity. I did consider rolling around on the rug in the hope some of the perfume would rub off but considering the dogs had already done it, decided “NO”!”

Staring at those shards my thoughts drifted to that much quoted verse about vessels of clay.

2 Corinthians 4:7

“But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.” (KJV)

And off, at a gallop, went my mind.

“The value of my perfume lay not in the bottle, but in the perfume.”

My value lies not in my exterior, my race, religion, culture, ethnicity ( I can go on and on and on); neither in whether I’m pink, white, brown, yellow, short or tall, fat or thin, introvert or extrovert, vegetarian or carnivore,

My value lies in what is inside of me.

Cyber Hugs and Many Blessings on this Wednesday.

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