May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be an acceptable aroma to you, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.
(rephrased from Psalm 19:14).
Ephesians 5:2 (ESV)
And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
God smells our thoughts and deeds.
This week, think how you smell to God. Are you kind like cookies baking, or rude like skunk spray? Humble like sweet alyssum, or arrogant like roofing tar? Hard-working like steak on the grill, or lazy like old garbage? Prayerful like incense, or critical like burned toast?
The Bible tells us which gods not to serve:
Deuteronomy 4:28
. . . gods of wood and stone, the work of human hands, that neither see, nor hear, nor eat, nor smell.
Those worthless gods have no sense of smell. Almighty God has an almighty sense of smell.
The God we serve is all-knowing and all-smelling. And he treasures our best-smelling moments.
Most of us care how we look. We try to look our best.
Some of us care how we look to God. We know that he sees beyond our outward appearance. God looks at our hearts. We hope he approves of our thoughts and actions.
Have you ever thought about how you smell to God?
2 Corinthians 2:14 (ESV)
For we are the aroma of Christ to God.
“The aroma of Christ.” Me? You?
I just finished an interesting book, “Blind Spots: Why Smart People Do Dumb Things” by Madeleine Van Hecke. Yep, I’ve done my share of dumb things.
I have blind spots, especially when it comes to my unintended trespasses.
Psalm 19:12 (NIV)
But who can discern their own errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Lord, give me eyes to see past my blind spots. Let me see what you see.
Remember Christ’s words:
Luke 6:31 (NIV)
Do to others as you would have them do to you.
I want the young man in Monday’s post to make good the damage to my car. And the people I’ve trespassed on want me to make good the damage I did.
Deliberate or accidental, trespassing calls for apology and restoration. Deliberate or accidental, being trespassed upon calls for forgiveness.
The young man who rear-ended my car said, “Accidents happen.” I was hoping for two different words:
“I’m sorry.”
A young man trespassed on my property this week. He pushed his truck over the boundary of my bumper—actually he moved my bumper into my trunk.
He didn’t do it on purpose.
Sometimes I accidentally trespass on someone else’s property, person or feelings. How about you?
Forgive us our unintended trespasses.