extravagant love

Mary had spent time with Jesus, sitting under His teaching and hanging upon his every word. Her heart had been almost broken under the pain of her brother's death, and in spite of herself, she had wondered, "Jesus, where are You?" Somehow she knew He could have spared their family this sorrow, could have prevented her brother's death. Four days later He came to them, and the glory He had revealed through Lazarus' resurrection was far beyond anything she had ever dreamed Jesus to be. Not only had He shared in her grief, which ministered deeply to her sensitive soul, He had brought her brother back from the dead! Surely this was the Messiah, for in Him was life.

Passover drew near. Mary considered her love for her Lord, and knew how she wanted to demonstrate this love to Him.

"Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus had lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus' honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 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. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." John 12:1-3

As I've mulled over Mary's devotion to Jesus while studying John 12, the last sentence of verse three seemed to fly off the pages of my Bible. What is the measure of my devotion to Jesus? What fragrance fills my life? What sort of atmosphere permeates my home, my friendships, my relationships with family members, church members, or those I meet as I make my way around my community?

Is it one of indifference to the things of God?
Selfish ambitions that don't take time to seek out the cares and concerns of those I come in contact with?
Shallow conversations which reflect timidity, a lack of treasuring people, a selfish agenda, or unwillingness to venture into subjects which may be hard to talk about?

Or do those around me catch glimpses of:
A heart that treasures and meditates upon God's word, putting it into action?
A love for God that translates into a love for the people He has made, broken though they may be by this world?
A spirit that is unshaken by circumstances because she knows the God who is sovereign over them?
A willingness to pursue others' hearts without pushing my own agenda?

In the parallel passage in Mark, it says Mary broke her jar, pouring the perfume on Jesus' head. What am I withholding from Him, that stops the spread of the fragrance of sweet perfume?

Is it fear of being hurt?
Fear of looking silly?
Fear of things that might be hard?
Unwillingness to part with some idol, right now more beloved than Jesus Himself?

He held nothing back from me, not even His own life, comfort, or glory. Isn't He worth my best and most valuable gift? May He find my offering of love to be a pleasing aroma: a life fully poured out to Him, whatever the cost.