The Fragrance of His Presence
As my June 2025 graduation date stares me in the face, I’m met with a whirlwind of questions. Should I do post-graduate studies, or take a gap year? Should I jump at that internship, or pack a suitcase and travel for a month—maybe even go on a missions trip?
This milestone is as exciting as it is terrifying. I thought I had it all mapped out. But the past few anxiety-filled months have forced me to confront a glaring reality: I don’t.
And honestly? That unsettles me. Have you ever been there too?
I should preface this by saying I’ve always been someone who likes to be sure. I have my tasks colour-coded in an online task management system and a physical planner. I knew exactly what university I wanted to go to all throughout high school (and only applied to that one). I had even written out all my non-negotiable traits for a future spouse (which I did when I was 14).
“Spontaneity” and “Angel” do not belong in the same sentence.
For years, I’ve loved the story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10. I always liked to think I was like Mary—the one sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully present, fully surrendered. But the more I read it, the more I realize I relate closer (maybe a little too closely) to Martha. “She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made.” (Luke 10:39-40a NIV)
While I believe the Lord also blesses our careful planning, when we allow ourselves to get caught up, anxious, and distracted—and in my case, obsessed with being certain—we can miss out on what God has for us right at the moment.
There’s another time in scripture where the two sisters are mentioned: in John 12. Every time I read it, one sentence grips me: “Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair.” (John 12:3 NIV)
I wonder what the disciples and the sisters thought of her. Judas Iscariot openly objected to this act and he related it directly to the perfume’s value: “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was was worth a year’s wages.“ (John 12:5 NIV)
A pint of pure nard was worth nearly a year’s wages. It was extravagant. It was costly. And yet, Mary didn’t hesitate. She didn’t hold some back, just in case. She poured it all out.
The Oxford English Dictionary notes that the word pour has uncertain origins, but it’s thought to come from the Old/Middle French purer, meaning “to decant” but also “to purify.”
I wondered—what do I have? What is costly? And if I were truly willing to give it to the Lord, what would that look like? And maybe, my surrender is an opportunity for the Lord to purify me.
Furthermore, because Mary poured out what she had at the feet of Jesus, she walked away smelling just like Him. She breathed it in. She was immersed in the same fragrance Jesus was. She didn’t just witness His presence—she carried it with her. “And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume” (John 12:3b NIV)
I have spent too many hours carefully calculating my next step, making sure everything is in order before I move forward. I like to know the plan. I like to have clarity. But faith isn’t about knowing—it’s about trusting. Maybe having confidence in Jesus isn’t about having a sort of toxic positivity, or a perfectly and meticulously laid-out path—it’s about being willing to pour out what I have at His feet, no matter the cost, and trusting Him for what’s next.
Mary left that room carrying the fragrance of Jesus. Wherever she went, that scent went with her. And I can’t help but wonder—what would my life look like if I walked out of every encounter with Jesus carrying His fragrance?
If I poured out my fears, my control, my plans—if I truly surrendered—would people be able to tell that I had been with Him?
This is what I feel God has been reminding me lately. This is what I long for. Not just to know about Jesus, but to be so close to Him, so surrendered, that I walk away changed, and that be a daily rhythm. I long for my life to carry the fragrance of His presence.
And so, I am encouraged by this: if I pour out, if I surrender what I have—my plans, my expectations, my need for certainty—maybe I, too, can carry the fragrance of Jesus.
Written by Angel Castillo, the Communications/Events Coordinator
We often cling to our plans, our control, and our expectations—but what if true worship is found in pouring it all out at Jesus’ feet? What are you holding on to?
Join us this weekend at any one of our campuses as we start a new series, “The Generosity Shift” and explore what it means to live a life of surrender, together!
