A Cup of Grace – with a shot of espresso

A few years ago we had a medical student over for an evening of dinner and hanging out. Third year med students often come and spend a rotation following doctors in our area, and this particular student had spent several weeks following my husband. Naturally, the conversation drifted to what she was experiencing and learning. The advantage for the student is that rural doctors treat a wide variety of things which can lead to some interesting experiences. 

As they discussed these, one particular patient came up in the discussion. No names were used. They didn’t need one. The smell was distinctive enough to identify the patient. Apparently, the odor was a pungent mix of body odor and feces. It filled the room and clung to everything it touched. The question was how could that person live with themselves? The answer: they were nose blind to their own smell. They never even noticed it. 

I struggled to understand how someone could reach that point. I suspected there was some mental issue going on, but the Holy Spirit redirected my attention. “What do you think you smell like to God?” It wasn’t accusatory. It was a thought to reflect on. 

There is a temptation to stoutly say that my spiritual smell is not like that patient. After all, God has been at work in me a long time. Then the image of a junior high boy came to mind. This is the age they begin to realize that they do have body odor. What’s funny is what they do about it.

For years their mothers have harped at them to take showers and put on clean clothes, but for many in this age group that takes entirely too much time and foresight. Instead, they put on the dirty socks, turn underwear inside out and choose pants and a shirt that aren’t too badly stained. Then, in order not to stink, they spray body spray all over themselves. It is a throat clogging cloud of scent that surrounds them and mingles with the sweat and grime still on the body and clothes. 

In sharp contrast to either of the above examples, the honeysuckle is in full bloom along our tree line right now. I walk past with the dog and inhale deeply. My head swivels in search of the little yellow and white flowers, and I am always disappointed by how quickly the scent passes. It is pure, sweet and somehow calming. Sometimes, I will stop a few minutes and just breathe. That’s what I want to smell like. I’m not talking about a physical trail of perfume. I’m talking about the effect my life has on others and before God.

I may not be the patient, but I don’t know that I have the effect of the honeyscukle either. Am I really more like that junior high boy? Do I attempt to cover my sin with good deeds? Do I ignore the stench of my attitude with the excuse that I was at least obedient? What stinky motives are at work behind the scenes? What do I really smell like to God? Others might be deceived by the “body spray” of outward behavior, but God isn’t. And eventually, the stench will seep through.

The answer is probably that it depends on the day. But just as I have left junior high long behind me and take joy in being physically clean and pleasant smelling, so too I want to leave covering up behind. I don’t want to be nose blind to my own sin. 

Lord, help my life to be a sweet smelling aroma before You. I long to bring You and others joy. I don’t want to be putredly full of myself. I need You to purify and remake me. Scrub me clean of selfish ambition, of pride and self will. Cleanse even those things I do not see. Help others to experience Your love through me and breathe deeply. Let me be a part of the moment that causes them to look for You.