I remember a time I walked into my high school dorm room with a greasy bag of leftover French fries. My roommate—fresh off a shift at McDonalds—just about gagged. But the same smell drew hungry, hopeful friends from halfway down the hall.

Believers who “smell” like their Savior get a mixed reaction too. To some, we stink. To others, we couldn’t smell sweeter. “We are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life” (2 Corinthians 2:15,16).

When I share the truth that Christ is the only way to heaven, I cause a division. A few are drawn to the cross like hungry kids to a bag of fries. But many more wrinkle their noses in disgust. And that is hard. I sometimes feel lonely in the shadow of the cross. I am sometimes tempted to water down my witness so as not to offend.

That’s when I need to unwrap God’s Word. To soak up the aroma of Christ that rises from its pages. To lick the plate of his delicious promises. To be so delighted by the meal that I must share it with others.

The smell of French fries can fill a hallway. We believers can fill our homes and schools and cities with the smell of Jesus—the aroma of life everlasting.