A Fragrance of Christ

“For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved and in them that perish:” II Cor. 2:15

I was blessed to grow up in a Bible-believing home and church.  From very small, God’s perspective of the world shaped how I saw and interpreted much that was around me.  I saw the clear, distinct lines between the God of Light and the god of this world.

I watched those bound in the shackles of sin – slaves to their lusts and desires – joined to a master that delighted in pillaging them.  There was no end to satan’s ill intent towards them.  Whether they worshipped him or themselves, his desire was always the same – to kill, steal, and destroy.  I saw that the way of the transgressor was truly hard as they fought against the claims of their Creator upon their lives.

On the other hand, I saw that Christ was Love Himself, and that those that followed Him were blessed above all people.  They served a King Who wanted to give them LIFE, and life more abundantly.  The paths of obedience were not there to control or micromanage my life into some colorless existence – they were there to protect me from the enemy of my soul, to lead me to His presence where there is fullness of joy, and to seat me in safety forever at His right hand where there are pleasure forevermore.  The blessing of the Lord made His people rich and there was no sorrow added to it.  They were satisfied and abounding and there was no horrendous price tag waiting to be collected.  Christ, had already paid every outstanding debt against my soul.  Christ, had chosen to make me a partaker in His inheritance.  Christ, had already endeared me to the Father, and if the Father had given me Christ, He would also – with Him – freely give me all things.

And so I built a life around the paths of blessing.  I felt as if I would always be surrounded by an invisible, invincible shield – that my life was hidden away in Christ and I had no fear of anything.

I followed my Good Shepherd and poured my life out into His work.  I loved Him.  I trusted Him.  When my common sense screamed “no,” and my heart buckled in fear, I still submitted and went with Him, faithfully – although at times flinchingly – following Him.  I knew I was safest, happiest, securest with Him.

But life still happened.  And life hurt.  And I was crushed.

You see, I knew that the way of the transgressor was hard.  Always.  Even when they came back to Christ there were deep scars, regrets, consequences, and baggage that continued to dodge their steps.  I grieved for them as I helped them pick up the pieces that their rebellion had shattered all over the place.  While I wept over their broken heart I prayed that the Lord would keep my heart, that I would be spared their pain.

And I purposed that however unpopular, I would stick with Christ.  I knew the gainsayers would mock and the rebel would scoff at me, but I didn’t care.  I wanted to spend my life wrapped in the beauty of His presence, growing to be more and more like Him.  No regrets, no sorrows – just grace for grace, glory for glory.

But what I had never considered, was that the way could be hard here too.

It wasn’t hard in the same way… satan didn’t have authority in my life because I had not yielded my members to him…but it seemed that the Father gave him a season and a time to trouble and sift me and it felt like I was being given to the will of my enemy.

I tasted sorrow and loss… rejection, persecution, death, destruction, grief, infirmities… But I continued to follow the Man of Sorrows Who was well acquainted with the painful throb in my heart.

I descended into valleys where I was far from rich – where it appeared to me that the devourer was turned loose and the windows of Heaven were bolted shut.  I cried out, “Why, Father?  I have brought your tithe into the storehouse and given again and again to Your people and the poor and needy.”  I knew He was The Giver of every good and perfect gift… and yet my lap was empty and its emptiness mocked me.

I walked fearlessly behind my Shield and Protector into battle – only to be beaten and bruised and wounded and so weak that I was unable to even drag myself to safety.  I looked up into the night sky that reminded me of a Love more expansive, and promises more numerous than the stars above me – and cried “Where did I go wrong?”  How had this happened to me?  How was I ever to live life with the same fearless confidence I had before?

For I feared life now.  Feared its twists and turns.  Feared the fleeting breath of those that made my world beautiful.  Feared the places of loss and deprivation.  Feared the cruel pressure of distress and the chokehold of need.  Feared the pain of lies and persecution and how they could make my inner oasis a place of chaos and turmoil.  Feared the grip of pain and illness that made my body feel like a torture chamber.  Feared the unknown lying ahead and the thousands of things that I could not control and had no word of promise that would allay the pain I had – and might still have – to walk through.

My childlike innocence that life would be perfect on the path of blessing was gone.  My confidence that life would not hurt, as long as I was in my Saviour’s presence, shattered.

I had broken pieces.  The pain that fractured faith…The fear and hurt and offense that sprang up in all the cracks and crevices of my inner man…all of it was ugly to look upon.  All of it exposed the self-love that had been lurking underneath, hiding behind my sincere adoration for the God of Light.

And in the revelation of how small and selfish I really was, it also exposed the magnificence of my Saviour.  He chose to walk into these places – not because He was forced to or because it was the better of two options or because it didn’t hurt Him – He went there intentionally to do the will of His Father.  He went to find the lost sheep and broken souls that were lurking there so He could bring them home.

And why did I ever think, that in following Him, I would avoid walking in the places He walked?  As He was, so was I to be in this world.

Life wasn’t about what I wanted – about my comfort and happiness and secure little bubble – it never had been about me.  It was about me being the essence of Christ in EVERY place.  It is about me carrying on His work by the power of the Holy Spirit.

It is about me dying, and about Him living.  Because the world doesn’t need me – they need Him.

Time is fleeting, and yet we all stand on the precipice of decision.  We have one opportunity to live this gift called life – here.  We have forever to live it  – over there.  One day our souls will cross the Jordan and we will enter Homeland.  There, everything will be as He intended it should be…full of beauty and joy…free of suffering, sorrow, and pain. But for now, we live in an imperfect world and we will suffer.  The question is, will I suffer alone in a self-inflicted alienation from the God Who loves me?  Will I suffer because I have spurned the call of my Creator back to Himself?  I am not referring simply to salvation, but also to the child of God that is at war with His claims upon every aspect of their life.  He is calling us to lay aside the filth of the flesh and our desire for the things of this life and to step into fellowship and harmony with Him.  Is that where my contention will be?  Will I spend this fleeting life reminding God of what I think is His and what is still mine?

Or will I suffer as I follow Him and do the will of my Father?

The suffering in this life is universal.  It is because of sin and affects the very ecosystem we are surrounded by as well as the animal kingdom.  It affects man, whether saved or unsaved.  What makes such a radical difference between the rebel and the follower is not the ease of the pathway or the absence of suffering.  The difference is found in their fragrance.

The one grows more shallow and odious with time – like spoil and decay – and dissipates completely with death.  The other?  It produces light…from its tears and struggle springs life.  It is like the clean scent after a thunderstorm, the aroma of crushed wheat baking into bread, the fruity smell of the pruned branch now heavy with fruit, the fragrance released from fragile petals when pressed beyond measure.  It is rich with meaning and blesses our spirits and refreshes our weary souls.  We find strength where others faint, beauty among the ashes, peace in the midst of turmoil, and joy through our tears.

And we find that no suffering was in vain, for as we followed our Saviour –
He enabled our naturally barren places to produce eternal fruit
He was with us through every terrain we traversed
He healed us and restored our soul during our journey
He worked all things together for our good

I want to run after Him…to keep the joy of all that He has planned and prepared for a sinner saved by grace always in my sights.  To let Him make all that He desires to, all that He deserves to, out of this one earthly pilgrimage of mine.  I want to follow Him faithfully, into every place He wants me to go and watch with wonder as He does His eternal work.  It is my one glorious opportunity to be poured out like a sweet smelling fragrance before Him.  And one day, I will step over the river into our Long Home…and He will wipe away every tear from my eye and every scar and every sorrow…forever.