Grinding Incense

A number of years ago a mentor of mine gave me this little trinket that it looked like he had stolen from an apothecary. At the time we were working together at a church where I had begun leading worship. Near the end of the summer he presented me with this grinder over lunch as a symbol to remind me that in the Old Testament era, priests would have to grind incense before burning it as a fragrant offering to the Lord. So, too, as a worshipper, I must be ground to be a fragrant aroma to God. (For those of you who can guess who this gentlemen was, this story should not seem surprising).
To this day I have kept the grinder on my bookshelf near the section on Puritans and Jonathan Edwards. These brothers in the faith when to great lengths to ensure that their entire lives were a worshipful fragrance to God. Edwards is often noted for his painstaking efforts in his diet so that he would not grow lethargic and neglect his study of Scripture. As a poor writer who seeks to be a great one, I take an inordinate amount of time in my lessons, sermons, and writings to ensure that I have properly and thoroughly dealt with the topic I am studying. I want everything my listeners hear and my academic readers read to flow logically, impress upon their consciences, and demonstrate the call of God. I believe I could say that I am painstaking in such endeavors, even though I fall short quite often in the execution.
However, this afternoon as I glanced at the grinder as I have done for the last six years, I was suddenly reminded/convicted that too often I neglect to allow myself to be ground down in preparation for worship. I am reminded of Ephesians 2:1-3, in which Paul reminds his readers how lost they were before salvation and the utter death that consumed their meaningless lives. I pair this passage with John Owen's treatment of Romans 8:13, in that remnants from this terrible life that we led apart from God still battle within us. Praise God that the death of this death is an endeavor that the Triune God had covenanted Himself to on our behalf, "by grace you have been saved through faith, and that, not of yourselves, for it is a work of God." Yet, I ask myself, "am I allowing God to grind me down more and more into a fragrant offering to Him?" Do I both actively seek to participate with Him in destroying sin, while also actively allowing Him to search my heart and call me to a greater likeness of Christ?
The call we all as followers of Christ share is that we would daily continue to die to ourselves and live more in Christ. I believe the imagery of the incense grinder is a convicting reminder of how daily, tediously, and comprehensively this call to mortify sin truly is.