Sweet or Sour

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My church runs a cafe between services where you could get espressos, caramel macchiatos, chai lattes, and even regular coffee if you’re not feeling particularly adventurous that morning. Those who run the cafe also take turns providing fruit and baked goods—homemade or store bought because—no pressure! It’s the perfect space, warm and inviting, to connect with church family and make new friends between services.

A few Sundays ago, whilst pumping a French vanilla flavor shot into my latte, I noticed a glass jar filled with snack size Smarties boxes and a chalkboard sign that read, “In Memory of Irene Langeman”. I smiled, grabbed my phone to snap a photo, and knew I’d write about a sweet legacy one day.

So here we are. Today is that day.

I did not know Irene Langeman well. She passed away a few years ago, having lived into her mid-90s. I knew she was kind. I knew she was faithful. I knew she loved her family. And I knew she loved Jesus. I also knew she didn’t come to church without a stash of snack size Smarties in her purse ready to hand them out to any children who came to wish her a good morning. My three rascals were among her faithful frequent flyers. “It’s how I get to know the kids”, she’d say. I bet by the end she could barely hear them and I’m certain some of them nearly toppled her over in their excitement (such children shall remain nameless!).

Well, seeing that jar filled with Smarties and the chalk board sign display years after Irene Langeman passed make me think of the sweet legacy she has left. I was sure her daughter filled that jar on her behalf but after some extensive research I’ve discovered that the cafe team has taken this on as part of the ministry and in honor of Irene’s legacy.

My kids still remember greeting Mrs. Langeman each Sunday and waiting expectantly for the colorful boxes to emerge from her purse. Their memories are sweet. Her legacy is sweet, too.

It’s got me thinking: Will my memory be as sweet? What about my own legacy? What about yours? 

Even if you’re still in the prime of life, I wouldn’t dismiss this too quickly. You don’t have to be on your deathbed to start thinking about your legacy. Consider how people might feel after some time spent in your presence. Is there a sweetness about you? Or do you default to being bitter or sour?

When the ground beneath your feet quakes and and leaves you shaking to your core, what tends to spill out? Are you a tall glass of sweet tea? Or a cup of sour milk?

Or think about this way: Do people leave you feeling like they’ve been with Jesus? It sounds overly religious, but 2 Corinthians 2:15 says,

“…we are the sweet fragrance of Christ which exhales unto God, among those who are being saved.”

We are the ones God left behind after Jesus ascended to heaven. We are the ones meant to enhance the sweetness of what God offers to all people through the sacrifice of Jesus. And frankly, it pains me to see so many use the name of Jesus or the title Christian to be anything other than the sweet aroma of God’s amazing grace. 

If the Christian is constantly negative, nagging, or numb, then the fragrance they give off couldn’t possibly be sweet to the senses. No one walks past a bakery and complains about the smell of fresh bread. No one catches the scent of coffee beans grinding and recoils in disgust. Fragrance draws you in. It awakens hunger. It stirs something you didn’t realize you wanted until the aroma reached you.

And yet, being a sweet fragrance does not mean being spineless. It does not mean saying yes to everything, avoiding hard conversations, or sanding down every sharp edge of conviction for fear of offending someone. Jesus himself was the ultimate fragrance of God—and he was anything but bland. He overturned tables. He spoke truth plainly. He refused to be manipulated by public opinion. And still, people were drawn to him in droves.

The sweetness of Christ was never about niceness. It was about the kind of love that leads to repentance 

Romans 2:4

There’s a difference between being gentle and being passive. A difference between being kind and being compliant. Between being gracious and being silent when truth needs to be spoken. Intentionality asks better questions of us than, “Did I say the right thing?” It asks, “Did I say the true thing, in the right way, at the right time, with the right heart?”

Because whether we like it or not, we are always leaving something behind.

Every interaction carries a residue. Every conversation has an aftertaste. People may not remember your exact words, but they will remember how you made them feel. Did they feel seen or dismissed, safe or shamed, hopeful or heavy? And for many, you may be the closest thing to Jesus they encounter that week. Or month. Or year.

That should sober us.

Not paralyze us—but sober us!

We don’t compel people toward Jesus by watering down truth, but neither do we compel them by weaponizing it. The gospel is already offensive enough on its own. It doesn’t need our impatience, our sarcasm, or our unresolved anger layered on top of it. When Christians are harsh, dismissive, chronically outraged, or perpetually suspicious, we often end up repelling people from the very God they secretly ache for—long before they ever hear what he’s actually like.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: sometimes people reject “Jesus” when what they’re really rejecting is the smell we’ve attached to his name.

This is where intention matters.

What spills out of us under pressure reveals what we’ve been steeping in. If our default posture is irritation, cynicism, or defensiveness, it’s worth asking what has been forming us. Fragrance doesn’t happen by accident. It’s cultivated. Incense has to be crushed before it’s burned. Coffee beans have to be ground. 

Love, patience, and humility are formed the same way—through surrender, pruning, and a long obedience in the same direction.

Being intentional might look like pausing before speaking when you’re frustrated. Choosing to be curious over jumping to conclusions. Remembering that the person across from you is not your enemy, even if they disagree with you. It might mean holding your convictions firmly while holding people gently. It might mean being warm without being weak, clear without being cruel, honest without being harsh.

It might look as small—and as holy—as a purse full of snack size Smarties.

Irene Langeman didn’t preach sermons from the stage. She didn’t rally revival across the city. She simply noticed children, loved them well, and left them with something sweet to remember her by. And years later, that sweetness still lingers.

That’s legacy.

Not fame. Not volume. Not being right all the time. But being faithful in the ordinary moments God puts right in front of us.

So maybe the question isn’t, “Am I bold enough?” or “Am I nice enough?” Maybe the better question is: “What does my presence make people curious about?”

Do they leave feeling a little more open to grace? A little less alone? A little more convinced that God is kinder than they thought? Or do they leave bracing themselves, guarding their hearts, assuming that following Jesus would mean becoming harder, colder, or smaller?

We can’t control how people respond. But we are responsible for how we represent Christ.

We are the aroma left behind in a room after we’ve gone. The aftertaste of a conversation. The memory that surfaces years later, unexpectedly, like a jar of Smarties on a cafe counter.

May what lingers be sweet.

What’s in the Ears

This is the part of where I share a song or podcast I’m currently into. In honor of Irene Langeman, I am recommending an album by singer Steffany Gretzinger titled, Faith Of My Father featuring older hymns and worship songs set to new arrangements. The particular song I’m recommending is called, I Exalt Thee because Irene Langeman really did that with her life. Let me know if you check it out!

If this stirred something in you, share this post with a friend or drop a comment below. I’d love to hear what small step you’re taking towards the flourishing life today! And don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss a thing.

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