The Smell that Jesus Loves.

“Poverty has a smell.”

I once read someone say this on Threads, and I agreed.

Through outreaches, I’ve met some of the poorest people in our country, and without sugarcoating it, yes, sometimes they do smell.

But earlier today, as I held a child in my arms, her face still wet from crying, her saliva on my shoulder, her scent close to my nose as I try not to be bothered by her smell, suddenly it struck me…

Yes, poverty has a smell but it is a smell that Jesus loves.

Because poverty doesn’t smell because people are less. It smells because of the conditions they’re forced to live in — limited water, irregular bathing, sweat from labor, dust from the road, smoke from cooking, long days under the sun. These are not the scents of shame; they are the scents of survival.

And when I held that child, I realized:

the smell wasn’t offensive, it is the kind of smell Jesus would draw close to, not avoid.

It was the scent of someone who is loved.

Someone whose worth isn’t diminished by their circumstances.

Someone whom Jesus, if He were here physically, would embrace without a moment of hesitation.

So I held her a little tighter against my chest as I softly sang, “Jesus loves me.”

Yes, poverty has a smell but heaven is not repulsed by it.

Love isn’t repulsed by it.

Jesus isn’t repulsed by it.

May we learn to love like this.