Another Gardenia On My Nightstand

There’s a gardenia on my bedside table, and life is good.

Every time I smell a gardenia, I have the same reaction. Complete and utter amazement. Something deep inside my soul is filled to the point of overflowing, and I feel only joy.

My first encounter with a gardenia was in Florida. My grandparents had purchased a condominium on Marco Island, and we flew from our home in New Jersey to visit them. I was five or six at the time. There was a handyman in their complex named Hank. He was friendly – not in a creepy kind of way, but in an excellent customer relations kind of way. He took good care of the buildings and the grounds, and anytime we saw him, his face would light up like we were family. It was Hank who gave me my first gardenia blossom. My mom was there with me, and we inhaled its rich perfume together. I felt cherished and so so happy.

I am thankful to live in a climate where gardenias thrive, and the day each spring when the blossoms open is cause for celebration at our house. As our children were growing up, I had so much fun placing vases with a few blossoms in their rooms, hoping to pass on that sense of being cherished.

At both of their weddings (Nick’s last May and Elizabeth’s just over a week ago), my corsage was made of gardenia blossoms. The sweetness of this is not lost on me.

So now, I have another great joy associated with the scent of gardenias. My soul is satisfied and filled to overflowing with joy at seeing both of our children (nay, all four of “our kids”) happily married to a spouse who is loving them well. I see them also being loved and cherished by the families they married into and I am blown away by the way God has answered my prayers for them. I do not take any of this lightly. I am aware of these rich blessings, my heart is heavy in the best possible way as I consider the weight of my gratitude. I am full of delight and wonder. I am amazed at the rich fragrance of God’s goodness.