Yesterday Levi hopped out of the truck and delivered a classic line:
Nothing says springtime like the smell of pig poop in the air!
You see, we live within nose-distance of the Penn State pig farm. Most of the time we never even notice. There’s the occasional extra-loud squeal from that general direction, and Dasher loves to run off to roll himself in the pig-mud (yeah, let’s believe that it’s just mud.) But every Spring, when the wind blows from the farm toward our house, we get a couple of days of indisputable evidence.
Kim keeps the doors and windows closed, even when the thermometer tells us that it’s a sweet 80+ degrees outside. She possesses one of the most discerning noses that I know. My sense of smell is nowhere near as keen. Most of the time I can’t smell much of anything. But I can smell the pig poop.
I don’t want to paint too weird a picture of myself, but I actually like the smell of pig poop (and skunk spray, if I’m disclosing all my secrets.) I don’t know if it reminds me of something from my past (should it, Mom?) or it’s the simple fact that I only get a couple of smells in my palette. It could be that I associate the smell of pig poop with the changing of the seasons. Spring means the start of baseball (have you seen my first place Buccos?) and nicer weather for getting outside. Pretty soon we’ll be firing up the grill, staying outside longer to play as the sun lingers, and visiting with neighbors and friends around the fire pit.
As I sit here, late at night, I have the window open, if only for a little while. I can feel the night’s coolness sneaking in, and the aroma of Spring fills me with a sense of renewed hope and optimism.
I think that God is doing a similar work in my heart these days. I’m leaning in to my new role at Calvary, dreaming and praying about what God wants to do in Happy Valley, and how I/we can be part of that. I get excited as I scribble my chicken-scratch through the pages of my journal. I’ve never claimed to be the most discerning person; I’ve joked that my discernment ranks just slightly higher than that of a large rock! But I can smell something in the air, something more than the pig farm. I believe that a breakthrough is coming for individuals, for Penn State, and for Happy Valley.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go close a window before Kim comes downstairs gagging!
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