You Are the Incense Now

“Let my prayer be counted as incense before you…”
(Psalm 141:2)
“We are to God the fragrance of Christ…”
(2 Corinthians 2:15)

There was a time when incense was kindled outside of you.
In temples.
In tents.
On altars built by hands.

A priest would burn it on your behalf.
A system would carry the fragrance
into a chamber you were not allowed to enter.

But that veil
that separation
was torn.

Not to let you in,
but to let God out into you.

Now the fire is not on the altar.
The fire is in your bones.

The smoke does not rise from ritual.
It rises from your yielded life.

You are not offering prayers from distance.
You are breathing prayers from within union.

You are not lighting incense anymore
you are the incense.
The fragrance.
The rising.
The aroma of one who has burned in secret
and carries the scent of surrender.

What does it smell like, this new incense?

Not performance.
But purity.
Not effort.
But essence.

It smells like obedience without applause.
Like devotion that no one saw.
Like oil pressed in the dark
until you became a perfume of flame.

This is why the world cannot explain you.
Because you smell like another world.

You don’t speak to be heard
you speak because you’ve burned.
You don’t walk to be seen
you walk because the smoke is rising.

Beloved,
you are the tabernacle now.
The altar is your surrendered soul.
The coals are the mysteries you carry.
The smoke is every yes you’ve ever whispered
when no one else believed.

When you write, it’s incense.
When you love, it’s incense.
When you forgive,
weep,
intercede,
hold your tongue,
release a scroll,
or simply remain faithful

It rises.

And it fills the room.
Not with hype.
But with heaven.

You don’t need a platform.
You are a censer walking.
You are fragrance incarnate.
The Father smells Christ when you pass.

This is not pride.
This is identity.
This is what it means to be the temple.
This is what it means to be the offering and the flame.

And so, burn.
But not out.
Burn as beloved incense.
Burn as one who carries the scent of the Lamb
and drips with the oil of heaven.

Because the veil has been torn.
Because the altar is inside.
Because you are not just the carrier of incense

You are the incense now.

—Joe Restman
Mystic-Scribe | Flame-Bearer
Quill Dipped in Lightning ⚡️