I did a foolish thing yesterday, and, for the next several hours, I wished I hadn't. I almost hate to tell you about it, but I'm going to do it, anyway.
A lot of my fellow writers, who work from home, dress in their most comfortable clothes to write. I, on the other hand, treat it like a job. When I move to my computer in the morning to write, I go dressed for work. Yesterday, I wore a silk skirt with a blouse and sweater.
After lunch, I realized I needed to check on the chickens. It would have been sensible to change clothes first, but I thought it would be a quick trip. I switched to barn shoes and headed to the chicken house, silk skirt swishing.
I fed the chickens and gathered the eggs, then checked the waterer. It wasn't a pretty sight. The chicken roost is in a very unhandy place, nearly over the waterer. An energetic chicken can make a horribly unpleasant deposit in the waterer if she so desires.
Apparently, she had so desired. More than once. It was a ghastly mess. And that's putting it mildly.
Here's the foolish part. I'm still surprised I did this, but I said to myself, "I should just scoop these feathers out of the waterer. Maybe I won't have to wash it out." For just a tiny moment, I failed to consider the deposits the roosting chicken had made.
Since I didn't have any gloves with me, and since I was trying to protect my silk skirt, I gathered up my skirt with my left hand, bent way over, and stretched out my right hand. In the waterer it went. I made a quick swoop around the basin of the waterer and came up with a handful of feathers and... "deposit". I gagged. Threw the handful on the ground. Gagged again. Dragged the waterer out, rinsed it clean, put it back in the chicken house, and refilled it with water.
I rinsed my hand at the tap and wiped it good with the towel I keep at the barn. All the way back to the house, I kept thinking, "Something smells terrible." I reached my right hand up to swipe the hair out of my face and I knew. The thing that smelled terrible was my hand.
The scent of my recent action clung to my hand like a second skin. I washed my hand with lime-and-cucumber soap. No better. Lysol. Clorox bathroom cleaner. Comet. After all that scrubbing, there was still the lingering scent of ... the deposit.
At least my hand was clean, so I applied fragrant hand lotion. The two fragrances mingled and transformed the lotion's scent to... the deposit again.
Hours later, after multiple scrubs with tangerine sugar scrub, I finally got the scent off. Lesson learned.
Then, I noticed the spot on my silk skirt, and I went to work all over again.
During all the scrubbing, I had time to consider the "aroma" our actions leave in our lives. Acts of righteousness leave a sweet smelling aroma that pleases our Lord. Sinful acts leave an aroma that is not so pleasant.
Today, let's take careful note of our actions and the aroma they offer to our Lord. Let's choose wise actions and be sure we send sweet-smelling sacrifices of love His way.
"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in His triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place. For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing;" 2 Corinthians 2:14-15 nasb
#fragrance #Jesus #farmlife