Acrid Smoke or Sweet Incense?

Weeks after my husband's picture hit the front page of the local newspaper along with the story of his crime, I changed churches. Over night I had gone from loving to talk to anyone and everyone on Sunday mornings into a fight or flight mode. I didn't want to see or be seen by anyone I knew. I didn't want to talk with anyone unless I chose to.  This meant having to watch my back so no one would sneak up on me, catching me by surprise. A new church was the answer.  There I could worship, listen and learn, and sit in silence with God. And I did. 

While I sat in church Sunday after Sunday and let myself be filled and nursed along, I knew I couldn't remain in my self imposed solitude forever.  Well, I could, but it would not be healthy for me, nor would it allow God to use me.  I needed to step out into unknown realms.  So I went to a Celebrate Recovery group for grief and loss.  I also attended a Beth Moore Bible study of Daniel.  What blessings both these ministries were.

From C.R. I learned that my need to talk would last longer that my family's and friends' desire to listen.  I found the importance of just listening and not commenting, giving advice, or sharing similar experiences--just listening to let the speaker give voice to her feelings, to give unspoken pain some sort of shape.

I won't forget C.R any time soon, but neither will I forget one part of the study of Daniel that really hit me.  The third chapter relates the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego being thrown into the fiery furnace because they refused to bow before Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king, and worship him. Nebuchadnezzar was amazed that the three Hebrew boys were untouched by the fire and heat.  Neither they nor their clothes were burned.  Then came the part that really spoke to me in the last part of verse  27, "and no smell of fire had come upon them."

If you have ever been around a bonfire or any other type of open fire, you know that whether there is a breeze or not, you will leave that fire smelling of smoke.  That is a given.  Your clothes will stink as will your hair.  The aroma you give off tells everyone that whatever you were doing, fire was involved. 

During this time I was feeling I had been thrown into a fiery furnace and had flames eating at my very being, trying to destroy me.  But I also know that, like Sadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I wasn't alone in the furnace.  Christ himself was in there with me and would bring me through intact.

I realized after that one session I didn't want to come out of my furnace smelling of smoke. It would be easy to emerge a stinking mess. It would be easy to become bitter, forever angry, distrustful, cynical, jealous, and negative. I didn't want that to happen. Instead I wanted to emerge smelling like incense rising in praise to God.  It was a choice.

In fact, it is a choice we all have to make everyday whether we are in a fiery furnace or just in the heat of everyday living.. Each decision we make, each thought we think, each action we take, each word we speak can be either as acrid as smoke or  as sweet as incense and healing as balm. What will it be?

I pray that  as we tuck ourselves into bed each night we know we have given off a wonderful aroma of incense all day long and, like smoke,that aroma permeated all those we met.