Smells like Skunk...Again

Last weekend, Rizzoli was sprayed by a skunk. Again. It wasn't quite so bad this time. We think she was running away (lesson learned?) and was only slightly dusted.

But the experience reminded me of this old post, which my heart needed to read this morning, even if it makes me miss my Charlie.

---

Do you see these two? Don’t they look like angels?

Perfect angels, right?

We all remember Rizzoli’s three near-death experiences, so maybe only one of them fits that description. Unfortunately, even Charlie, “the good kid,” was on my bad list a few weeks ago when both of our dogs got sprayed by a skunk in our backyard.

IN OUR BACKYARD.

They had the creature cornered where he could not escape, and they were not deterred by the stinky smells at all. We’re convinced they got sprayed more than once at close range.

It took about four days to get the smell out of the house—and even still, I swear it lingers in a few places.

We gave the dogs 11 baths (Rizzoli, the lucky one, receiving one more bath than Charlie) with all kinds of home remedies, Pinterest suggestions, old wives tales, and vet-recommended solutions. Nothing helped with the smell—at least not on first application. We did have some success with the de-skunk shampoo the vet’s office sells, but it took three applications each.

Even now, almost two weeks later, I still smell it when Rizzoli shakes her ears, her now-shedding hair flying in the air, and I groan.

What a mess!

The timing was terrible, of course. It initially happened just before bed, on a night when we were already getting in bed late.

I fell into bed at 1:00 a.m., exhausted.

The next day we were leaving town, and I just wanted to give up, to lay down and say, “I can’t do this.”

(For the record, my hubs, as usual, was the rockstar. I think he gave 5 or 6 baths in a short span of a few hours.)

Two days later, the smell wasn’t better—for the dogs or our house. I felt so discouraged.

We’d light candles and spray aromas and bought every imaginable wall plug, but all of that only temporarily masked the smell.

Now that I’ve had some time and space from what really was an unpleasant experience at an inopportune time, I feel like the Lord has used that to speak spiritual truth to my heart.

Y’all, maybe I’ve only been masking the smell, but this has been a challenging six months. I’ve been tested to what feels like my core. My patience. My attitude. My humility. My leadership.

Even my values have been tested.

What’s more important: What God says about me or what people say? Pleasing God or pleasing man?

What’s do I value most: Being recognized, validated, defended, appreciated? Or being a daughter, accepted and beloved?

It’s been tough, and I’ve seen my flesh on a new level.

I felt like the Lord reminded me that when I try to do this life stuff on my own, it’s like spraying Fabreeze around my house and hoping it will make the smell go away.

Funny, right? Because it’s so foolish.

Only the Holy Spirit can do the real work, the under-the-surface work, where the skunk’s poison resides, where it’s settled and seeped into pores and pockets.

I recently had someone speak a word over me, and he said that I needed to unyoke myself to the things that trouble my heart. Howell told me afterward that he immediately felt like that meant unyoking myself to other people’s opinions of me.

This isn’t new information or a new struggle—of course I shouldn’t care what others think, and I’ve known this is a habit of mine for a while.

But something about that phrase—unyoke yourself—really got my attention.

I always thought of the “do not be yoked” verses as relating to marriage or relationships. But Howell’s exactly right. I’ve yoked myself to what other people think of me rather than yoking myself to the Lord and letting His opinion rule.

If there’s a spiritual smell to being yoked to others’ opinions, I guarantee it’s worse than a skunk.

What about you, friends? Do you struggle with performing, pleasing, striving?

I understand completely! Let’s let Holy do a major detox in our hearts today. 

Check List or Forgiveness?

Laura and I were talking with some other couples about how we argue and what our fleshly tendencies are when we do, so I thought I would share an insight that I’ve discovered about myself that might help someone else.

When something goes wrong, or I upset her, I tend to want to fix it immediately. I think that there are certain personality types that just want to fix problems quickly. Let’s be efficient people!! At least that’s my natural tendency. When it comes to matters of the heart, though, the fastest way is not always the most efficient way. Think of it like this. If something is really important, like your spouse’s feelings, you should take the time to make it right. All good things take time, especially marriage.

Early on in our marriage, I asked Laura. “What words or phrases would be most effective to help us solve our differences?” This might sound like a great question to ask, and it is. She obliged with some things that really minister to her in times of distress, which was wonderful. Excellent communication, right? It surely was. We were on the right track…but, application makes all the difference.

I jumped on those phrases like a bicyclist at the Tour de France. That is to say, way too fast. I applied the words and phrases that she gave the first chance I had, and they fell completely flat. All that great communication down the drain?! Well, almost. What I didn’t realize is that these great words are moot without hearing Laura out first. She needed a chance to tell me how she felt, and then we needed time to let those words soak in.

She just needed a little time to process, and I just needed to back off a bit. Recently, the Lord brought all this back to me when I was watching our dogs. 

Rizzoli, our Weimaraner, is much bigger than our Wheaton mix, Charlie, and thus has much bigger feet, which stomp around like Godzilla in Tokyo most of the time. This means that she steps on his tail a lot. When she does, he gets upset and barks and whines. She obviously feels terrible and stays about two centimeters from his face until he feels better, whether he likes it or not—and, in fact, he hates that too. She is really just making a bad situation worse by doing that, just like I was.

What really changed all this for the good, though, was finding the root cause. Through some prayer and self-reflection, He revealed to me that I needed to have our problems solved and find reconciliation so quickly because I was putting my security in whether Laura was okay with me instead of putting my security in Him. Simply put, I was putting more pressure on our marriage than God intended. When my security is in Him, our marriage functions much better. I’m free to ask Laura how she feels or what issues are happening and not feel an urgency to pressure her to forgive. She is then free to feel my sincerity, rather than my insecurity. In turn, we resolve issues much faster and are healthier in general together. What an amazing God we serve!!

 ~Howell

@G22WHubs

When the Enemy Dive Bombs You

Tis the season for nests and baby birds. We love to sit and watch our Barn Swallows from the front porch. Every morning, the babies sing us a song from their nest.

In our backyard, the birds’ nests usually don’t have as much success. Although the massive pecan trees look protective, when the wind blows, they inevitably knock nests to the ground—a sight that always breaks my heart.

This year, one momma did good, and her nest is not budging, even with all the storms we’ve had this summer.

She’s also fiercely protective of that nest, and I suppose, rightly so.

Every time Rizzoli, our Weimaraner, goes outside, she dive bombs her the second she walk out the door. What cracks me up, though, is that Rizzo completely ignores this momma bird that is about three inches from breaking skin on her head with its beak.

Our girl prances through the backyard, smelling for pecans or rabbits—completely unaware of the fiery darts nearing her head.

The other day, as Howell and I were laughing at this scene that we’ve seen repeatedly for weeks now, the Lord reminded me of Ephesians 6, where it talks about standing firm, wearing armor, being prepared for the fiery darts of the enemy.

The enemy wants to mess with us all the time, and most of the time, we get rattled when we see his darts thrown at us.

The Lord gave me the scene with Rizzoli as the perfect picture of what mature Christians should do. We’re not bothered by the enemy. We know he’s not actually going to get us. He might swoop close and make loud noises to distract us, but he can’t really do anything—so we just go about our business.

She’s a picture of someone walking in the authority of God.

So, stand firm, my friends. Put on the whole armor because we don’t wrestle against flesh and blood. But be bold and courageous because we know the enemy is already defeated. He has no power whatsoever to harm us, even if he tries.

The only power he has is what we give him.

Take the tip from Rizzoli. Enjoy life, stay on mission, and prance around your territory like you own the place—because all authority under heaven and on earth has been given to us through Jesus.

We are victorious! 

Smells like Skunk

Do you see these two? Don’t they look like angels?

Perfect angels, right?

We all remember Rizzoli’s three near-death experiences, so maybe only one of them fits that description. Unfortunately, even Charlie, “the good kid,” was on my bad list a few weeks ago when both of our dogs got sprayed by a skunk in our backyard.

IN OUR BACKYARD.

They had the creature cornered where he could not escape, and they were not deterred by the stinky smells at all. We’re convinced they got sprayed more than once at close range.

It took about four days to get the smell out of the house—and even still, I swear it lingers in a few places.

We gave the dogs 11 baths (Rizzoli, the lucky one, receiving one more bath than Charlie) with all kinds of home remedies, Pinterest suggestions, old wives tales, and vet-recommended solutions. Nothing helped with the smell—at least not on first application. We did have some success with the de-skunk shampoo the vet’s office sells, but it took three applications each.

Even now, almost two weeks later, I still smell it when Rizzoli shakes her ears, her now-shedding hair flying in the air, and I groan.

What a mess!

The timing was terrible, of course. It initially happened just before bed, on a night when we were already getting in bed late.

I fell into bed at 1:00 a.m., exhausted.

The next day we were leaving town, and I just wanted to give up, to lay down and say, “I can’t do this.”

(For the record, my hubs, as usual, was the rockstar. I think he gave 5 or 6 baths in a short span of a few hours.)

Two days later, the smell wasn’t better—for the dogs or our house. I felt so discouraged.

We’d light candles and spray aromas and bought every imaginable wall plug, but all of that only temporarily masked the smell.

Now that I’ve had some time and space from what really was an unpleasant experience at an inopportune time, I feel like the Lord has used that to speak spiritual truth to my heart.

Y’all, maybe I’ve only been masking the smell, but this has been a challenging six months. I’ve been tested to what feels like my core. My patience. My attitude. My humility. My leadership.

Even my values have been tested.

What’s more important: What God says about me or what people say? Pleasing God or pleasing man?

What’s do I value most: Being recognized, validated, defended, appreciated? Or Being a daughter, accepted and beloved?

It’s been tough, and I’ve seen my flesh on a new level.

I felt like the Lord reminded me that when I try to do this life stuff on my own, it’s like spraying Fabreeze around my house and hoping it will make the smell go away.

Funny, right? Because it’s so foolish.

Only the Holy Spirit can do the real work, the under-the-surface work, where the skunk’s poison resides, where it’s settled and seeped into pores and pockets.

I recently had someone speak a word over me, and he said that I needed to unyoke myself to the things that trouble my heart. Howell told me afterward that he immediately felt like that meant unyoking myself to other people’s opinions of me.

This isn’t new information or a new struggle—of course I shouldn’t care what others think, and I’ve known this is a habit of mine for a while.

But something about that phrase—unyoke yourself—really got my attention.

I always thought of the “do not be yoked” verses as relating to marriage or relationships. But Howell’s exactly right. I’ve yoked myself to what other people think of me rather than yoking myself to the Lord and letting His opinion rule.

If there’s a spiritual smell to being yoked to others’ opinions, I guarantee it’s worse than a skunk.

What about you, friends? Do you struggle with performing, pleasing, striving?

I understand completely! Let’s let Holy do a major detox in our hearts today.