So the other day I asked my handsome husband to stop by the store and pick up some baby food and handsoap for the restrooms (as we were out). I usually get the pearl peach moisturizing soap (because I have lizard hands...unfortunately). Well I made no specification as to which soap to grab and Nathan brings home a simple off brand clear handsoap. I think to myself, "not a big deal, this stuff goes so fast" (We use refill big jugs). Well, I begin to refill our soap dispensers and I gather this scent wafting up to my nose. It has this familiar smell...I KNOW this smell from somewhere. I just do.
So I wash my hands.
And it hits me. This is the same soap that used to be in the soap dispensers at Travis Baptist Church. My old church. The church where I grew up. The church where I was saved The church where I learned how to pray. The church where I learned how to learn. Memories began to flood my mind and heart (and nose hehe) and I just stood there staring into the bathroom mirror at myself and thought about how far the Lord has brought me from that place as a 13 year old girl walking down an aisle to discover more about the burning desire for "more" that was swelling in my heart. I thought about moments of joy and pain and stretching moments of frustration. I thought about the people who walked with me, before me, behind me. I just stood there taking in the scent...the memories. The trips. The people.
I have traveled far from my place at Travis Baptist Church (where Nathan's great grandfather used to preach, coincidentally) and have found a new home to continue on my life journey.
But I shall never forget those years.
Or that hand soap.