Wet Dog Stink

My dog (Samson, a Shepherd-Labrador-and-small-amount-of-Wolf combo mutt, who weighs in over 100 pounds) absolutely stinks when he comes in from the rain. I just got another blast from the living stink bomb and it almost makes me want to gag. Usually he shakes himself off on me as I walk by just to add a little insult to the injury he caused my sense of smell. Normally Samson doesn’t smell “all that bad” but as soon as you add a little water, schzaam, big nasty dog!

Most of the time I have a positive view about myself, even a little smugness escapes into my everyday. I seem to walk about with the attitude that I don’t smell “all that bad.” I am a nice guy, to oh so many, I reason.
Then add a little temptation or strife to my life and schzaam! Mean, nasty, selfish guy appears right through my skin, using my mouth to speak malicious vile.
That stinking dog creeps back through. The dog that I thought I was done with the last time I was stinky, returns.
Oh to kill the stench. Who can bathe me clean, really clean?
I am fairly convinced that we haven’t a clue when it comes to grace.
Pure unadulterated grace scares the crap out of us. So much so, that we often attach conditions, requirements and hoops to it. The problem is that those conditions immediately diminish it’s value, truth and beauty.
The truth of grace washes the smelliest of us with a beautiful fragrance that supercedes all stench, even nasty wet dog stench.
May the grace of God change you.