Yesterday my family and I went to a farm outside of Omaha. This is unique because I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have ever been to a farm. If you have ever been to one I don’t have to remind you that unique sites and smells abound.
In particular, I want to focus here on the smells. Now, I will not go into great detail, so queasy stomached folks may continue reading. However, the fact of the matter is, the place reeked. And frankly, I don’t even know what the smell was. My wife says it was the chickens. I thought it was the cows. Who knows?!
But this much is true: the farmer, his helpers, and the other people there buying things were oblivious to such a stench. Perhaps they had become used to it. They were nothing like the Raymond family who had our little girls running around looking at the sights with their noses pinched with their thumb and forefingers (despite my wife’s insistence that they might offend folks, to them it was a matter of survival).
OK, so you get the picture. The place stunk and folks really didn’t notice; they were used to it.
It got me thinking about sin and grace. As an unbeliever I was living in the pollution of my own sin. I delighted in the stench of my rebellion. It was where I lived. I not only practiced such things but gave hearty approval to others who did the same thing (Rom. 1). I was oblivious to the stench.
Then, the rushing gust of God’s grace came upon me through the gospel. It covered me. It bathed me. It cleaned me. It scrubbed me.
God descended upon an unsuspecting, unworthy, unattractive, stinky sinner with his glorious grace. He allowed me to sniff, inhale, and breath the fumes of grace. The fragarance of Christ’s righteousness filled my nostrils and delighted my senses. Oh, yes, this was far better and far more than I deserve.
So in this I rejoice. I delight to awake today and take a fresh sniff of the gospel and smile with humble joy in Christ.
(1Pe 3.18) For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God
*note: I don’t think farmers are stinky, dirty, or any more sinful than any other person, especially myself. I am merely using this as an illustration.