What is your favorite perfume? Charlie? Emeraude? Chanel #5?
Some people consider the choice of perfume to be quite a science. The scent of perfume smells different with it interacts with body chemistry than the scent in the bottle. What smells good on you may not smell so sensational on others, so some believe, and we are attracted to scents that smell best on us.
For years, my favorite has been Jovan Musk for Women. I went through a period of time where I liked White Shoulders but my hand always hovers over the Jovan when it’s time every five years to replenish my perfume. I have never cared for the uber-flowery scents; instead, I like the stronger scent of musk that states, “I am different than most perfumes for women.” Maybe the perfume is interacting with my rebellious streak.
No accounting for taste. Or smell, for that matter. Personal preferences keep the perfume industry, a $27.5 billion business according to www.statisticbrain.com, smelling sweet.
I think someone somewhere ought to manufacture the scent of homemade bread. Chocolate chip cookies would be a nice alternative. That would send sales soaring.
A friend once told me she used to be one of those persistent sales clerks at an upscale department store who stood near the door with a tester bottle, offering incoming customers a spray of the latest eau. A rule of perfume etiquette, she told me, was that one is to never mix scents. For example, you don’t wash with vanilla bean shower gel, rub Japanese cherry blossom lotion into your hands, then spray Emeraude on your neck pulse points. It confuses those you want to attract. Your package of body scents needs to carry one theme only. I confess I break that rule every day.
Her observation made me realize something. When I remember to spray on my favorite cologne, people will comment, “You smell good.” Pause. “What are you wearing?” The attention swiftly moves from me to the source of the scent.
2 Corinthians 2:14 says that God uses us to spread the fragrance of the knowledge of Jesus everywhere. Our lives need to carry the love aroma of Jesus so strongly that people will say, “You smell good” followed by, “What is it?”
Of course they won’t say it quite that way. They might say what one visitor to our home said, “I like coming to visit you. Where you live is so peaceful.” My town more peaceful than others? I don’t think so. Do they perhaps sense the peace of Jesus within the walls of my home? Visitors to women’s fellowship groups have often commented, “This group is so friendly – unlike the other groups of women I’ve been with.” i wait, I long for the moment that they figure out the source of the sweet smelling aroma.
If you could be assured that people would catch the fragrance of Jesus from the way you live your life, wouldn’t you want to do everything you could to help them catch a whiff of that fragrance? Yet, like a spritz of perfume, I don’t want to spray Jesus on my life too heavy. Ask my husband about his reaction in the car after I had tried to use up my nearly empty bottle of Jovan before moving. Poor guy. He tried to be diplomatic, but I was offensive even to myself.
Also, have you ever smelled a man’s scent when he has tried to use cologne to hide the stale smell of cigarette smoke? Sorry, buddy, it doesn’t work. We all know.
Maybe my friend was right. You don’t mix scents.
That’s true in my spiritual life too. Jesus doesn’t mix well with the world. If I want people to catch the whiff of Jesus in my life, it has to be only Jesus. If I want them to notice Him, I need to be careful of the things in my life that might distract those I want to allure to Jesus’ side. I need to put on only Jesus.
Then they’ll be attracted to me and ask, “What makes you smell so good?”