There’s a “treasure shelf,” high up and out of reach of little hands. However, it was my moment to shine as Granddad. Maddie (age six) and Levi (age four) were more than happy to help me explore it.
Eager hands and wide eyes examined the treasures: trilobite fossils, a mastodon tooth, the jawbone of a prehistoric bison, Civil War Minié balls, arrowheads, bits of coral, and semiprecious stones—all tantalizing and, importantly, nearly unbreakable.
Then out came a nondescript rock.
Brown. Jagged. Plain. Entirely unimpressive.
“What’s that?” Maddie asked, holding the stone at arm’s length, her nose slightly upturned with a skeptical—almost disgusted—expression. Compared to a mastodon tooth, it was clearly a disappointment.
“Well,” I said, “that’s a very special rock.”
“It isn’t very pretty,” she replied.
She was right.
“I found this rock on an ancient trail near the Sea of Galilee in Israel,” I explained. “It’s a path Jesus walked more than 2,000 years ago. He may have stepped on this very rock—or even kicked it!”
Maddie’s eyes widened.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, now cradling the ugly rock like a priceless treasure.
“Cool!” Levi chimed in. “Let me hold it!”
Maddie gazed down at the rock, lifted it to her nose, and took a long, deliberate sniff.
“Oh, Granddad!” she announced with confidence. “This rock smells just like Jesus. He had to have stepped on it!”
Levi sniffed the rock too and nodded solemnly.
“It does smell like Jesus, Granddad.”
Intrigued, I did what any reasonable adult would do.
I sniffed the rock.
I can now say with complete certainty: Jesus smells just like a rock.
“Taste [smell] and see that the Lord is good.” —Psalm 34:8 (NIV, with forgivable license)
Dash Stories 