The Sense Of Smell

My sense of smell isn’t highly developed; in fact, of my five senses, I probably rely on it the least. Oh, I can pick up the aroma of bacon on the skillet. And the perfume of lilacs in spring and pine trees at Christmas always catches my attention. But beyond that, my smelling ability doesn’t seem to operate at a very high level.

On some occasions, though, a smell will revive a memory. The most notable example of this for me is the smell of freshly cut clover. If I drive by field where the hay has just been mown, I’m transported back fifty years and am again “riding the rack wagon,” stacking hay in the barn, and eating Aunt Evie’s lunches. They are good memories.

It’s amazing how a scent can trigger a memory. Smelling a hay field affects me much more than seeing a hay field or hearing the sound of a mower clacking through a hay field. Smell is a powerful thing.  “Thanks be to God, for he always gives us a place . . . in the victory procession of Christ, and, just as at such an earthly triumph, the perfume of incense fills the streets, so God through us had displayed in every place the fragrance of the knowledge of himself” (2 Cor. 2.14–16).

When Paul preached the gospel, it was like a can of air freshener had been sprayed into the room. And the same thing happens when God’s people live beautiful and gracious lives. Regardless of how limited a person’s actual sense of smell, there aren’t many who will miss the fragrance of heaven when it is wafted by lives filled with love, and grace, and mercy.

Kenny Chumbley