I used to hate the smell of cigarettes because they reminded me of you. And all the bad decisions you had made. They reminded me of the late night calls begging for a rescue. They reminded me of the broken window and bloodstained hand. You were so addicted to the things that lead to your demise. But you've traded your cigarettes and ***** for Christ and a bible. And you've bargained for your forgiveness and prayed for some redemption. But I still hate the smell of cigarettes, because they serve as a reminder of just how easy it is to spark the things we think will give us healing, but end up catching fire and destroy us.