Some cigars demand reverence. They ask us to clear our schedule, to prepare our palate, to create space where appreciation can flourish. The Padron 1964 Anniversary Series is unquestionably such a cigar—a reminder that the best things cannot be rushed. It's a physical embodiment of the wisdom found in Isaiah 40:31, "But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles."

Last Friday, with snow falling silently outside the doors of the Oasis, five of us gathered for our monthly Smokey Moments. The centerpiece: the Padron 1964 Anniversary Series in Natural wrapper (though two opted for the Maduro—a division that sparked good-natured debate throughout the evening).

The Ritual

There's ceremony in how we approach these gatherings now. Phones are placed in a basket at the door. The lighting is adjusted to a warm glow. Coffee is brewed in the Chemex, and a selection of whiskeys is arranged on the sideboard. We begin with a brief prayer of gratitude—thanks for the fellowship, for the hands that crafted our cigars, and for the blessing of unhurried time together.

This time, we added something new: each person brought a short reading—a psalm, proverb, or spiritual reflection—to share at some point during the smoke.

One man carefully cut his Padron with a double guillotine. "My father always said how you cut a cigar says something about your character," he mused.

"And what does it say about mine that I prefer a punch?" asked another fella, demonstrating his technique on his Maduro.

"That you like to focus the experience—to intensify rather than broaden," I suggested, reaching for the matches. "Perhaps like focusing on a single verse of scripture until it reveals its deeper meaning."

The Experience

Those familiar with the 1964 know what followed: the initial pepper and spice that soon mellows into one of the most balanced profiles in the cigar world. Notes of chocolate, coffee, wood, and leather emerged as we settled into our chairs and the conversation.

The construction was flawless—a straight burn line, perfect draw, and ash that held remarkably well. We've come to expect nothing less from this line.

"There's no substitute for patient aging," remarked another guy, examining the smoke rising in perfect rings. "These tobaccos were aged four years before rolling. Makes you think about what we rush in our own lives and faith journeys."

This observation became the theme of the evening. The Padron, with its unhurried complexity, seemed to ask: what deserves more time in your spiritual life? What practices have you rushed that might benefit from more patient attention?

The Reflection

Halfway through, one of the guys pulled out his Bible and read from Ecclesiastes: "Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, and the patient in spirit, is better than the proud in spirit." The passage sparked a conversation about spiritual maturity that carried us through to the final third of our cigars.

The whiskey complemented the wood and sweet notes that had intensified as we approached the finish. The discussion turned naturally to what we were building in our lives—what legacy of faith we were crafting that might, like this cigar, stand as a testament to patience and care.

One guy shared a struggle with his teenage son, and we listened without judgment, offering neither quick solutions nor platitudes. Instead, we shared similar experiences, scripture that had provided comfort in challenging times, and finally, a moment of prayer for wisdom and grace in the situation.

The Legacy

As the evening wound down, we realized we'd spent nearly three hours in that room. Three hours without checking emails, without distractions—just presence, conversation, and the mindful enjoyment of a truly exceptional smoking experience alongside spiritual fellowship.

The Padron 1964 Anniversary Series isn't an everyday cigar for most of us, but that's precisely the point. Some experiences shouldn't be everyday occurrences. Some moments deserve to be set apart, to be approached with intention and savored with attention—much like our time in worship and devotion.

Our next Smokey Moment is already scheduled. The cigar is yet to be determined, but the purpose remains clear: to create space where time slows down, where presence is possible, where craftsmanship—both in what we consume and in how we live out our faith—can be properly appreciated.

"But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me." — Psalm 131:2

What experiences do you intentionally slow down for? How do you create space for presence and spiritual reflection in your life?