2 Corinthians 2:14-15 14 Now thanks be to God, which always leads us to triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of His knowledge in every place. For we unto God a sweet fragrance of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish.
Our little Elianna, now seven, loves flowers. Every time she sees one, she has to get down and take a whiff. It's so adorable.
Did you know that back in the days of the Roman Empire fragrances were all the rage? They would celebrate their victories with huge parades and burn incense on the altars, which would fill the entire city with its sweet-scented aroma. Even those who could not be part of the celebration would smell the incense from afar and know their army had been victorious!
This is the very effect we should have on the world around us. Our lives should be burning the sweet smell of righteousness, holiness, love, and victory! Our fragrance should be so strong that people can smell it from afar and know that we are victorious in every circumstance through the atoning work God has already done!
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This piercing question opens Psalm 11 like a cry from the heart in troubled times. It’s a question we ask when law and order collapse, when truth is ridiculed, and when those who do evil seem to triumph. The foundations — the principles of righteousness, justice, and truth that uphold society — are under siege. And it begs the question: What can God’s people do when everything righteous seems to be crumbling?
After one of the greatest spiritual victories in all of Scripture–calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and turning the hearts of Israel back to God–Elijah finds himself blindsided by fear.
Elijah heard what no one else did — a storm was coming. Though the sky was still blue and the ground still cracked from years of drought, Elijah discerned the sound of abundance. It was a prophetic knowing, a spiritual sensitivity that saw past what was visible into what God was about to do.
When Elijah cast his cloak over Elisha in the field, it wasn’t just a symbolic act — it was a divine call. Elisha understood this and responded not with delay or excuse, but with decisive action. After asking to say goodbye to his parents, he returned, slaughtered his oxen, and used the wooden yokes as fuel for the sacrifice. Then he gave the meal to the people and walked away from everything familiar to follow the prophet Elijah.
Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.
Over the weekend, the United States launched a bold operation aimed at ending Iran’s nuclear program. In the quiet of the night, unseen by human eyes, B-2 Spirit bombers initiated Operation Midnight Hammer—a precision strike designed to eliminate hidden threats before they could bring harm. With unmatched stealth, they cut through the darkness, delivering a decisive blow against danger.
Every true move of revival begins where few look for it—at the hidden brook, in the quiet place of God’s pruning. Cherith (נַחַל כְּרִית) means to cut off, to separate, to covenant. Before Elijah could stand on Mount Carmel and call down fire, he had to be separated, set apart for God’s purposes.