Of smell and…

And what…I don’t know. I was trying to think of something pithy (I love that word) that might sound like “Mice and Men” but then again, I’m no Steinbeck…

But, about my blog title: Smelling God. At first, for some, it might seem like something sarcastic or trite or…stupid. But the idea came to me from an interview at one of my new favorite sites: The Carnival In My Head. I couldn’t get over the part about smelling God. I couldn’t get over the part about being in God’s Ghetto either, but that’s for another day.

Smelling God. Wow. Just think about it a bit. Smell.

Scientists tell us there is a freakishly close association between smell and memory…that smell can take us back like none of the other senses, even combined. Smell even plays a large role–if not the main role–in taste. Now that is something Americans can relate to: taste.

Sometimes I think the only sense of mine that wasn’t stained by abuse was smell. It’s the only sense, at least, that I don’t feel like I have to go through months of therapy over, in order to regain awareness and control. Oh sure, the scent of certain cigars or Crown Royal liquor (and the purple and gold bags to match), take me back to certain unspeakable times. But overall, I feel like smell is, well…my own.

Me and Middle Son walked in the house after grocery shopping today, for instance, and were greeted immediately by the overwhelming smell of vinegar. I knew it was my dear husband (DH) cleaning my coffee pot. Middle Son immediately thought of the experiments he was doing with vinegar and anything-containing-calcium in science class.

Mostly I thought a lot about smell today, though, because it was almost 60 degrees. Let’s put it this way: last week it was -5 degrees windchill. So, whatever front brought with it these balmy temperatures also brought (or at least I like to imagine) scents from the southern seashores…wafts of green things budding and blooming from Georgia, perhaps…a scent from the same breeze making a front porch swing sway in South Carolina.

And spring, to me, smells like hope.

Which is why all of this blather about smell brings me back to the title of my blog: Smelling God.

Sure, we hear all about worshipping God, and hearing God, and listening to God, and listening for God, and talking about God, and feeling the presence of God. But when was the last time you heard about or talked about or even thought about smelling God?

I think, to smell Him, you have to be on the hunt for Him. I think about hound dogs when I think about smelling Him: sweet little black wet noses going crazy just to stay on His trail, just to hope for the chance to stay close to Him, just to be the one dog who trails Him so hard and so fast that he is the dog that gets to, in the end, catch a glimpse of Him.

There is a poem called the Hound of Heaven which is quite the opposite, and you can take a look at it if you’d like through this link.

In the meantime, I’m going to sit awhile and dream of my lilacs and peonies coming into bloom this spring. I’m going to sit awhile and remember the sweet smell of talcum on my sweet babies’ newborn bottoms.

I’m going to sit awhile and dream of what it might be like to someday see the One I’ve been going crazy seaching for and hunting for and chasing after all these earthly days…

…the One who I’ve felt I’ve had to chase but Who, in reality, has ever held me in His hand…

So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10

The Father loves the Son and has placed everything in his hands. John 3:35

I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. John 10:28

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