I Smelled Africa

I smelled Africa tonight. I was driving through Washington in an old, boxy van with a pleasantly rumbly engine. I was just thinking how much like a choppa it was (minus a lot of extra passengers), when that smell wafted in through the windows. In my mind, the smell was linked to somewhere in Africa. I couldn't quite remember where (still can't), but a long, long chain of good memories was attached to it. It wasn't a particularly good odor, but I leaned back, closed my eyes, and drank it in like the finest perfume. In a way, it was perfume - perfume for my soul.

I suppose God works through smells the same as He does through anything else. When I scented my 'Africa smell', a big weight of uncertainty and discouragement lifted off of my heart. I felt immediately more peaceful than I had in...how long? I think that smell was God's way of renewing my hope, courage, and trust. It was His way of saying, "You're as much My child here as you were there. Do you remember all of the things I did through you there? Have a little faith, and I will do that much...and more...here."

I know that I have probably succeeded in weirding you out with this post. You're probably thinking 'she remembers things through smells?' (weird) 'AND she thinks God sent her a smell to encourage her?' (even more weird). All I can say is: God knows me and the workings of my odd little brain better than anyone. And I'm honestly far happier after I got my whiff of Africa than I've been in at least a week. I'd say that's a win-win, wouldn't you?