Smell your way

Smell is the strongest sense tied to memory. I’ve written before about opening storage containers or trinket boxes, breathing in, and instantly being transported to a time or event in my past, good and bad. Quite possibly, my very favorite sensation is waking up during the night before Thanksgiving and smelling the roasting turkey. Even in semi-consciousness that smell always reaffirms that something wonderful is to come, and I’m certain I fall back to sleep with a smile on my face. Memories of this are present throughout my childhood, as my mom almost always did the turkey for family Thanksgivings. The smell of the turkey comforts me. It means I’m at home, surrounded by the people I love most. Home from college at Thanksgiving, it was a reminder that I was home. An added treat was hearing the soft footsteps of my mother at various times throughout the night as she went into the kitchen to baste. Now I cook the turkey at Thanksgiving, which some might argue I do just so I can wake up and smell it cooking.

I’m on a half-vegan kick with my amazing new roommate right now. (Make no mistake, there will be turkey at Thanksgiving. I haven’t lost my mind.) I made slow-cooker oatmeal last night with fresh strawberries, coconut milk and almond extract. All night I woke to this unfamiliar, but sweet aroma, and when I remembered what it was, I think I may have giggled in excitement a little before closing my eyes again.

Over the years, I’ve gone to bed at night afraid, worried, stressed, doubting … I’m sure we have all spent a sleepless night or two experiencing one or more of these emotions. I pray before I sleep, especially when I am experiencing any of the above. But, as any mature believer will tell you, sometimes the peace, the resolve, the answer, doesn’t come before I slip into a strained and troubled sleep.

“Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands.” Deuteronomy 7:9

Many times, my prayers have immediately brought peace, restful sleep, and a clear direction to take the next morning. Other times my questions go unanswered.

Nevertheless, I serve a faithful God. The answer may not come when I want it, and certainly not when I feel I need it the most, but it’s always right on time, because it comes on His schedule, not mine.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4

For several weeks, maybe longer, I’ve been plagued with a trial. It has appeared in many forms and has involved many different people. I haven’t even known what to call it. How do you pray about something you can’t define?

I spent time with friends last night, had some good laughs, started my slow-cooker oatmeal, and went to bed. Somewhere in the night, I didn’t look at the clock, I woke feeling a question or some form of dread associated with this trial. I tossed and turned for a few minutes and mulled the circumstance over. I looked for a way around the problem it presented, because I’ve tried for weeks to go over the mountain and get it under my feet and haven’t been able to. As I worked to calculate my own solution, God finally whispered in my ear. Just a few words put it all in perspective so simply.

I woke up one or twice more last night before getting up for oatmeal and church this morning. Each time I did, I remembered those few words. How comforting it was to have a plan and a definition, to have guidance from the author and finisher of my faith. It was better than the aroma of a roasting turkey, or slow-cooker oatmeal.