Stinking Up the Place

Some smells are so obvious. You walk into a room and immediately know something’s off and can’t help but say “Ooooweee, it stank!” Maybe food was left out too long, or something’s starting to rot. But sometimes, the smell isn’t from the trash, a clogged sink, or even the dog. Sometimes, it’s coming from us. It’s the invisible funk of ego, pride, bad attitudes, disrespect, or bitterness. We carry these inner fumes as if no one notices, as if we’re not the ones making the place stink.

Allow me to be clear: I’m not above any of this. I’ve definitely been the one bringing the bad attitude. I’ve walked into rooms with the wrong spirit. I’ve replied to texts in a way that didn’t show the love I say I have. I’ve let irritation speak for me in family conversations. There have been days when I didn’t do anything “wrong,” but my whole mood was just off. Like milk that’s still in the fridge, still in the container, but not what it’s supposed to be anymore.

There’s a kind of pride that isn’t direct arrogance. Sometimes it's “I’m tired.” Or “I’m not in the mood.” Or “I’m just being honest.” Or “I don’t owe nobody nothing!.” And yes, sometimes we really are tired. Sometimes we’re not in the mood. Sometimes honesty is necessary. And boundaries are important. But pride can disguise itself. It can be self-respect, emotional maturity, or righteous anger. Before you know it, what you call “keeping it real” is just your ego run amok.

The Bible doesn’t shy away from calling this out. James says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). That verse used to sound poetic to me, but now it feels almost terrifying. Pride isn’t a personality trait. It’s not just “how I am.” Pride puts me against God. Listen, I’ve lost enough battles with God on my side. I don’t want to try to win anything with God working against me.

The trouble with bad attitudes is that they don’t stay hidden. We like to think our bitterness is contained, locked away where no one can see or feel it. But bitterness always finds a way. It shows up in our tone of voice, our body language, and how we see others’ intentions. Hebrews warns: “See to it… that no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled” (Hebrews 12:15). That word ‘many’ stands out to me. Bitterness doesn’t just hurt you; it affects everyone around you. Your bitterness becomes everyone’s problem.

Have you ever been around someone who says they’re “fine,” but you know they’re not? They answer questions like they’re being held hostage. Their smile looks forced. They do what you ask, but their attitude makes you wish you hadn’t asked. The worst part is, if you mention it, they act like you’re overreacting. That’s what bad attitudes do. They change the mood in the room. They make people walk on eggshells, quiet friends, make kids anxious, and cause coworkers to avoid you. Then pride steps in and says, “If they can’t handle me, that’s their problem.”

But sometimes, the real issue is that you’re the one bringing the stink, respectfully.

Disrespect is one of the fastest ways to spread that negativity. It’s not just obvious disrespect—yelling, insulting, or cussing people out. It’s also the subtle things: the eye roll, the sigh, the sarcastic “Okay…”, talking over someone, or treating someone like they’re a bother or burden. Scripture says, “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up” (Ephesians 4:29). Corrupting talk isn’t just profanity. It’s anything that tears down what God is building in someone. Sometimes we don’t curse people, we just treat them like they don’t matter. And that’s its own kind of harm.

I’ve seen this happen in families in heartbreaking ways. A mother or father who’s sacrificed for years is talked down to for asking a question the wrong way. A child who struggles to express how they feel and gets reprimanded for their efforts. A sibling who already feels insecure gets called “sensitive” every time they react to disrespect. And everyone just says, “That’s how we are.” But “how we are” isn’t always right. Sometimes it’s just generational issues in disguise.

Then there’s the workplace, where pride and ego can look like “professionalism” or “standards.” Have you ever seen someone who’s good at their job but brings a bad spirit? The person who corrects you in front of others always needs to be the smartest, never admits mistakes, and never apologizes. The strange thing is, they might get results, but still ruin the culture. That’s why Proverbs says, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). Pride doesn’t just make you hard to be around. It makes you unstable and sets you up to fall.

But I think bitterness does the most damage, because it always feels justified. Bitterness keeps a record of every hurt. It happens when pain isn’t dealt with—it just gets stored away, like leftovers. Then one day, you’re not just upset about last night. You’re still angry about things from years ago, from when you were a kid, from times you were overlooked, rejected, or hurt. You end up carrying all that pain inside, and you wonder why everything feels heavy and unpleasant.

The Bible doesn’t ignore the reality of being hurt. Jesus never acted like betrayal was nothing. He was betrayed with a kiss, mocked, falsely accused, and abandoned by friends. So when Scripture tells us to let go of bitterness, it’s not asking us to pretend nothing happened. God is inviting us into freedom. “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). Forgiveness isn’t pretending an event didn’t happen. It’s choosing not to let what happened turn you into someone bitter.

I have to be careful here, because some people hear “don’t be bitter” and may feel shamed, as if they're being told to just “get over it.” That’s not what I mean. I’m saying bitterness costs too much—way too much. It takes your peace, your relationships, your health, your ability to trust God, your future, and your joy. Even worse, bitterness makes you take it out on the wrong people. The person who hurt you might be gone, living their life, sleeping well. Meanwhile, you’re snapping at your spouse, cold with friends, distant with your kids, and impatient with strangers. Bitterness makes you hurt people who didn’t hurt you.

I know this because I’ve done it more times than I’m able to admit.

I’ve had moments where my pride made me defensive when I should’ve been soft. Moments where my ego made me need to “win” instead of understand. Moments where I held onto an offense because I wanted the other person to feel what I felt. Moments where I carried a nasty attitude, like it was my right. And the Holy Spirit, in His mercy, didn’t just convict me—He exposed me. Not to embarrass me, but to rescue me. His conviction is not condemnation. Conviction is God saying, “This is not who you are. I didn’t save you for you to smell like this.”

That’s what repentance is. Repentance is like spiritual hygiene. It’s letting God clean what’s been left too long. It’s opening up what we’ve kept hidden. Psalm 139 says, “Search me, O God, and know my heart… and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24). That’s not just a nice prayer. It’s a bold one. Because if God answers it—and He will—He’ll show you the places where we’ve been letting bad attitudes hide under the label of “personality.”

But here’s the hope: God does not expose sin to shame you and me. He exposes sin to heal it.

There is a version of you that is not ruled by ego. There is a version of you that doesn’t need to be right all the time. There is a version of you who can apologize quickly and sincerely, without theatrics. There is a version of you that can feel pain without turning into poison. There is a version of you that can be firm without being nasty. There is a version of you that can be honest without being cruel. And that version of you is not imaginary. That version of you is what the Bible calls the fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). The new you that is made after the likeness of Jesus Christ.

That fruit doesn’t come from willpower. It comes from keeping connected to the Lord. Jesus says, “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). So the answer to pride isn’t just to try harder. The answer is to stay close to God, stay honest, and stay open. Pride grows in secrecy and bitterness in isolation. Bad attitudes swell when we stop allowing God correct us. But humility grows when we stay near the One who is gentle and humble.

Maybe the most practical question we can ask is: What do people feel when they’re around me? When you walk into a room, do you bring peace or tension? When you speak, do people feel encouraged or on edge? When you disagree, do people feel respected or put down? When you’re stressed, do people feel safe or punished? These questions aren’t meant to make us feel bad. They’re meant to help us see clearly.

Because the goal isn’t perfection. God’s declaration is that we are clean.

Not clean as in never getting dirty, but clean because we keep coming back to the One who washes feet. The One who forgives, who heals what’s broken, who takes away the stench of our mistakes and replaces it with the aroma of Christ. Scripture says, “We are the fragrance of Christ to God” (2 Corinthians 2:15). What a powerful image. It means people should sense something holy around us—not because we’re fake or always smiling, but because even when we mess up, we repent. When we’re hurt, we forgive. When we’re tempted to be harsh, we choose gentleness. When we’re offended, we choose peace.

So yes—let’s talk about ego. Let’s talk about pride. Let’s talk about nasty attitudes, disrespect, and bitterness. Let’s take it seriously. Because it is serious. It can ruin friendships. It can corrode relationships and marriages. It can distort parenting. It can destroy communities. It can sabotage God’s calling on our lives. It can make us spiritually loud but emotionally unsafe. It can make us “right” and still wrong.

But let’s also talk about grace. Grace doesn’t mean God ignores our flaws. It means He invites us to leave them behind.

And if you’re reading this and realizing, “Yeah… I’ve been stinking up the place real bad,” you’re not alone. I’m with you there, too. The wonderful news is that God is not disgusted by you. He’s not shocked. He’s not done with you. He’s not waiting to punish you. He’s waiting to cleanse you. To renew you. To soften you. To free you.

Because the gospel isn’t about never messing up.

The gospel is that Jesus still comes close and washes you anyway.