I wonder what Heaven smells like? I imagine it goes beyond the capabilities of my current senses. Have I ever caught a whiff of it? My imagination tells me it would soothe and delight, bringing happy thoughts and memories to mind. And a tug toward my forever home.
Fragrances and memories are so connected that I think only happy smells will waft through heaven’s air. Revelation 21:4 tells us He wipes all the tears from our eyes. Does that mean that He redeems our memories, too?
Maybe there will be a new scent altogether, one that only exists in Heaven, one that comes from His presence. That one must top them all. It would encompass love and kindness, but also a lingering undertone of suffering. Firm like the Rock that He is, but bubbling with humor. Stillness and motion. Wouldn’t it be fun to smell the colors, too?
But in the here and now, I wonder what kind of fragrance emanates from me. Is it pleasant and joyful? Or is there a grouchy stench? Do I, by my words and actions, give off a perfume that draws people to Jesus?
We are usually more concerned about how our body smells to others, dousing ourselves with deodorant or perfumes. But what about our spiritual or emotional fragrance? When we enter a room, do we release the scent of life and love?
As I’ve grown older, I’ve become more aware of how my internal dialog affects my interaction with others. It takes practice and persistence to take errant thoughts captive, to wrestle those habitual negative narratives and pin them to the mat. I must start with noticing what they are. One benefit of community is that others may see more clearly what we don’t see, a place with a blind spot.
The smell of iron striking iron is metallic and acrid, but when the sparks subside and the air has cleared, something new emerges. It’s the fragrance of grace.
I hope others say that I smell like Jesus.
