Goofy Birds!

By Robin J. Steinweg –

Goofy birds are at it again! Can’t they find a safer spot for a nest? Read more

Distance Tuning

By Robin Steinweg –

“It’s still flat. Keep tightening it. Too low, keep going, getting better, almost there—there! Nope, you over-shot it. Loosen it a little, just a twadge. Oops. It’s okay, just tighten it a hair. Good! Now the next one.” Read more

I Can Fly!

When I was in first grade I met a boy who said he could fly. I longed to fly!  I stood on our turquoise hassock and flapped my skinny arms as fast as I could, but gravity got the better of me every time. Read more

Trust Me (Wink)

“Let me get this straight. You want me to stand up on this table, fall backward, and trust six or so giggling teenagers to catch me? And you’re telling me this illustrates our trust in God?”

The teen Sunday School class had gone on the prowl for some unsuspecting vict—I mean, participant. I was on my way to the choir room. I searched my brain for any excuse: my high school gymnastics coach once dropped me, though she’d been trained to catch people; my fear of heights made me hesitate to wear high heels; Mom taught me never to put my feet on a table. Read more

Signature Fragrance—What’s Yours?

By Robin J. Steinweg –

One of my students told me that when she catches a whiff of vanilla, she always thinks of me. Vanilla—I can’t get enough of it. I love it in hand wash, lotions and candles. I love it in cookies, ice cream and pancakes. If I could, I’d wash my hair and my clothes in it.

Ever since my student’s observation, I’ve paid more attention to others’ fragrances. Some are hard to identify, since they switch from one brand to another. Some folks wear the same perfume their whole lives. Others carry the scent of their occupation. I had a high school friend who worked on a pig farm. No matter what strong cleanser he scrubbed with, the smell of pigs would not wash off. So he covered it up with cologne. To this day I can’t smell Old Spice without thinking of how it never quite disguised the odor of pig manure. A friend’s father, a mortician, unwittingly carried a scent of embalming fluid everywhere he went.

Our sense of smell can lead us (mm, the brat stand is this way), protect us (uh-oh, I smell gas!) identify us (that’s not my mommy’s smell) and invoke memories (does that take me back…).

If it’s such an important factor in our lives, I need to ask: What fragrance do I carry spiritually? Do I overwhelm others with religious talk, or do I leave a hint of heaven that draws them in? Do I occupy myself with moral filth that I can’t wash off? When someone crushes my spirit with harsh words, do I respond in like, or do I give off the aroma of forgiveness? What scent is my trademark?

PRAYER: Dear Jesus, when You were bruised for my sins, You gave off the most appealing aroma. Let my life be a sweet-smelling offering of worship. Let me leave the trace of Your essence wherever I go. Your signature fragrance is forgiveness. I bless and thank You!

“Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place. For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2 Corinthians 2:14-15 NKJV).

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