Does Your Attitude Stink as Bad as Manure Day?
I never thought I'd write a devotion inspired by chicken manure, but here we are. Life in Wales keeps me humble, y'all.
As I mentioned in an earlier devotion, the farmer behind our house decided it was time to fertilize his field. One tractor-load of fresh chicken poo arrived on Monday morning and was dumped right behind our house. By afternoon, the smell had seeped into every crack, crevice, and curtain we own. We closed the windows, lit every candle we had, and prayed for a miracle breeze or even a nice rain shower. But it was not to be.
Tuesday morning brought a glimmer of hope. The stench had faded just enough that Jason and I started dreaming about throwing open the windows and finally airing out the stuffiness from the past few weeks of relentless heat. But before we could celebrate, the farmer's tractor rumbled back. Another load, this one smelling stronger than the first. Good grief!
By Wednesday, load number three arrived bright and early. This time, Jason marched outside to have a chat with the man about his life choices (kindly, of course). It turns out, the farmer plans to finish the whole field today. One long, ripe, unpleasant day of laying down manure and then plowing it under. Yes, it would be a rough day, but at least he won't keep stirring the pot (or the pile) day after day. The smell should finally start to fade for good.
As I sat pondering this fragrant saga, a line from the movie Facing the Giants popped into my head: "Your attitude is the aroma of your heart. If your attitude stinks, it means your heart's not right."
And friends, that line hit me right between the nostrils.
Here's the uncomfortable truth: my attitude has a smell, too. And just like that manure, one bad dump of grumbling, complaining, or self-pity doesn't just disappear the next day. It lingers. It seeps into the corners of my relationships, my prayer life, my witness to others. I can crack a window and hope for a breeze, but if I keep adding fresh loads of bitterness every single day, I'm never going to air the place out.
Paul understood this concept far better than any farmer's field ever could.
He wrote, "For we are unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish" (2 Corinthians 2:15).
Did you catch that? We carry a fragrance, and the people around us breathe it in whether they want to or not. Our coworkers, our children, our fellow church members, even the stranger in the grocery store checkout line. They all get a whiff of what's really going on in our hearts.
The good news is that unlike a manure pile, our hearts don't have to keep stinking. We don't have to wait for the wind to shift or the sun to bake it away. We can invite the Lord to till the soil of our hearts, root out the source of the stench, and plant something fresh in its place.
Psalm 51:10 says, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me."
That's not a one-time spring cleaning. It's a daily surrender.
So here's my challenge to myself (and to you): before you let one more "load" of complaining, resentment, or discouragement pile up in your heart today, ask God to do some fresh-air work in you. Open the windows of your soul. Let His Spirit blow through and carry out anything that doesn't smell like Him.
Because whether we like it or not, our attitude is going to permeate every room we walk into. The question is whether people will smell manure or the sweet fragrance of Christ.
🔍 Pulling Back the Curtain: A Peek at the Study Behind This Post
The starting point wasn't a Bible verse at all. It was the actual smell wafting through our house for three straight days, paired with a movie line that's been rattling around in my brain for years.
I started with the anecdote itself and jotted down the sensory details: the smell, the timing, the lingering effect even after it started to fade.
The Facing the Giants quote surfaced almost immediately in my memory, so I searched for the exact wording to make sure I quoted it accurately rather than trusting a fuzzy recollection.
With "aroma" and "heart" as my anchor words, I searched my concordance for "savour" and "sweet savour" in the KJV, which led me straight to 2 Corinthians 2:15—a verse I don't typically default to, which felt like a good sign I was avoiding the obvious choices.
I read the surrounding context in 2 Corinthians 2 to make sure I wasn't yanking the verse out of its meaning. Paul's talking about believers carrying the fragrance of Christ to both the saved and the lost, which fit perfectly with the "people smell what's in your heart" angle.
The rabbit trail led me to Psalm 51:10 ("Create in me a clean heart") as a natural follow-up, since it gave the devotion a clear action step: asking God to do the "airing out" work rather than just gritting our teeth and trying to smell better on our own.
Time note: This one took about 40 minutes total, though I confess a good chunk of that was me giggling at my own manure jokes before I could get serious. I know, I have issues!
Try this yourself next time something stinks (literally or figuratively) in your life: name the sensory or emotional detail first, then let a concordance search on a keyword lead you to a verse you wouldn't normally reach for. You'll be amazed at what treasure is buried just one search away.