Two year old Zoey is all woman. She can smell chocolate the minute she enters a room. It doesnít matter if itís brownies in the oven, an unopened bag of M&Ms on the counter or a box of Oreos in the cupboard. Her little nose wrinkles and her blue eyes sparkle.
ďI smell choclit. I love choclit.Ē
From there itís a tiny step to ďWant some.Ē
I have to admit I sometimes exercise my grandmotherís prerogative and give in, but not often. I care about the health of that little body as well as the joy in those eyes.
ďWouldnít you like an orange instead? See, itís so juicy. Smell it.Ē
ďNo, I donít, I donít.Ē
I offer strawberries, watermelon, peaches, asking her to smell each one. I know she loves them. But chocolate has filled her nose and thereís no room for the rest of Godís bounty.
I understand her passion. Chocolate represents so much in my life. It offers bliss, comfort, satisfaction and . . . indulgence. I love fruit, but it canít compete with chocolate for me either. I know I should eat fruit more often and save the chocolate for a treat. I would be healthier and happier.
Itís the same in my walk with the Lord. I look for happiness and comfort in relationships, work, books and . . . food. I know I should let the aroma of the Holy Spirit fill my nostrils instead of giving in to unhealthy self-indulgence. When I breathe in His fruit, what delight will fill my life?
Love is a red rose. I hold it to my nose and inhale deeply, then offer it to one who needs it more.
Joy is a spectacular thunderstorm. I stand on my porch before a curtain of rain and draw in the tang of wet earth while I praise the Creator.
Peace is a newly mowed lawn. I lay on my stomach and breathe it in, then sit up and pat the ground beside me, offering a place to a troubled friend.
Patience is a turkey in the oven. I sit with my Bible in my lap and take in the growing aroma while I read Godís promises.
Kindness is a fresh loaf of banana bread. I relish the fragrance while I wrap it up to take to a new neighbor.
Goodness is a white sheet hanging on the clothesline. I inhale its sunny smell before I make the bed for my childís wholesome rest.
Faithfulness is a restless ocean. I hold my husbandís hand while we whiff the salty air and watch the tide go out.
Gentleness is a baby after his bath. I sniff my grandsonís fuzzy head while I rock him so his tired mother can sleep.
Self-control is a mop dipped in pine cleaner. I cherish the pungent memory of my motherís loving care while I wash the kitchen floor for my family.
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