I have this feeling that when I go to Heaven, my olfactory glands (or whatever they are called) will explode. This might be a good thing because we will have perfect bodies then and maybe God’s idea of perfection is a noseless face. Maybe, after all this time on Earth, we will go to Heaven and find out that noses were a result of the Fall!
…But maybe not. Maybe we will still have noses and I will be assaulted with celestial scents so divine that they will clear out my sinuses for all of eternity.
I hope it smells like communion. I hope I will be enveloped by the smell of fresh bread, still warm from the galaxy-gas ovens. I hope there will be a sickly, sweet stench of red wine that permeates the atmosphere.
I hope it smells like dryer sheets, like the godly garments that He has freshly folded out of the Elysian laundry basket. Whenever I get dressed, I hope that that clean smell with always tickle my nostrils, teasing me and reminding that I have narrowly escaped the earthly curse of never-ending laundry. Now I shall suffer no more.
I hope it smells like bonfire, like the acrid malevolence of the splintered cross succumbing to the sulfurous flames. I hope the faint smoky smell with follow me wherever I go, clinging to my hair like the ghostly presence of a nearly forgotten friend. In fact, that’s how I got here.
I hope it smells like dude. Not a bad dude smell, but a good dude smell. I hope that whenever I give God a huge hug, that the rich masculine smell of my Father would pat me on the head as I go about my day. I hope that whenever I give Jesus a fist-bump, some of his essence would linger on my fingers — not a sweaty, awkward, “when-did-you-last-shower?” smell, but a comfortable big brother smell that beckons a smile to my face. And whenever the Holy Spirit greets my with a holy kiss (because that’s His thing and everyone just goes with it), I hope it’s accented with the teasing spice of expensive cologne — strong enough that the musk is noticeable but not so overpowering that you can’t breathe.
I hope that Heaven smells like communion, dryer sheets, bonfire, and lots and lots of dude.