Lost In the Prairies.....Found by God

When I was younger, my favourite bugs bunny character was Pepe Le Peu.  I loved him.  All he wanted was to be loved and find the love of his life.  I felt sorry for him that the closest thing he ever found to a female skunk was a cat with a white stripe.  Was there no one who wanted him for just being him.  Then there was Flower in Bambi.  A cute cuddly skunk.  You just wanted to cuddle with him.  Now that I think back, growing up on Vancouver Island, I had never seen a skunk, nor had I ever smelled one.  That could explain why I thought skunks as a whole were just misunderstood animals.  

My first experience with a skunk was driving the prairie highways.  A pungent odour permeated our vehicle.  I gagged.  I believe I asked "What was that? !"  A skunk.  Really, that stink was  from a skunk.  UGGGGGGGHHH.  How could I continue to love them, when all I wanted to do was stay away from them.  How could something so cute and cuddly looking be so smelly.

 Oh, but they are.  I experienced it first hand once.  I was driving a friend home from BSF.  We were listening to a song on a Christmas CD that I wanted to sing as a solo on Christmas Day.  We were just coming in off the highway towards our town and I was jokingly telling her that my hubby would kill me if I ever hit a skunk.  Then all of the sudden on the road was a huge skunk.  I swerved to miss the huge creature, but it sprayed the car.  We smelt it all the way home.  My hubby took the car immediately to a car wash, it did not help.  It took 1 week for the smell to finally go away.  He had to drive the highway with his windows rolled down in November so that he wouldn't pass out from the smell.  He kept saying, and still maintains, that I hit the skunk.  I stick to my story and I have a witness.  

My daughter was 2 1/2 at the time and daddy taught her to tell people that "Mommy hit a skunk."  She still tells people I did this 6 years later.  When she turned 6, I found a skunk Webkinz.  I bought it for her from her brothers.  She immediately named him "Stinky."  He is one of the kids favourite Webkinz and they all fight to play with Stinky.

You may be wondering why I'm writing a post on skunks.  No, I am not getting one as a pet.  No, I didn't hit one.  Earlier this week I had a dream about a skunk spraying my home.  I woke to the dream to the dreaded smell permeating my bedroom from outside.  I rushed to the windows to see if there was indeed one in the backyard.  Luckily for us, no.  It must have been in the park off our backyard and gotten spooked by someone's dog.  I had to close the windows and it was a hot evening.  It took me a while to get back to sleep.  I was glad that when I woke up, the smell was gone;  but I didn't really have a great sleep because of it  Yes, I'm whining, but really.  Who wants to be woken up to by Ode du Skunk.  The only thing they got going for them is they're still cute or I would have to add them to my list of unnecessary animals.  Right up there with mosquitoes.

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Did you guys know that I am a very vain person.  No really.  I am very vain.  It may be because of my trying to live the perfect lifestyle (see Tuesday's blog for more information on that one.)  It may be because I was raised to be colour coordinated and always look good when you go out in public.  I try to go out in my yoga pants and all day dispair of how horrible I look.  I'm not saying that I'm gorgeous.  I would never think that.  In fact that is something I'm reminded of on a daily basis, Satan knows where to attack.  I may be tall, but I am not thin.  

I am going grey early which is a bone of contention with me.  This is due to hereditary.  My grandmother was completely grey at 39 and I'm only have two more years for it to spread.  It's 1/3 there already.  Thankfully, I HAD a great hairdresser who sympathized with me and was slowing working on making me blond.  I hate going in public unless my hair is good.  I've gone out on bad hair days but again, like with the yoga pants fiascoes, I dispair of how horrible I look.  

Here's were I started to realize how these nails were going to affect my life.  I had trouble cleaning some areas of the house because of the nails.  I had trouble helping move some of the furniture because of the nails.  It felt like they were going to rip of my fingers when they even bent a little.  I was starting to get irritated with my pretty nails.  

Now because we moved I no longer had a friend to do my nails.  If I went to a salon it was going to cost me a lot to keep up with my pretty nails.  Something I wasn't willing to do.  As well, I really just wanted to be able to do things I used to do with my hands before I got the pretty nails, like open a pop can with out any pain.  Now I'm waiting for my nails to grow.  Lucky for me they grow pretty fast.  I am 1/2 way to being able to grow them out.  In the mean time I have painted the nails a dark burgundy so that you don't immediately see the difference between my real and the artificial nails.  

Last night we had a break through, one of the fake nails came off with a little bit of pain.  I now have one of my real nails again.  I welcomed it back and was so excited.  However, it is my middle finger so I can't really show people the difference.  I'll have to wait until another pulls off.  One is getting close, but it is fighing to cling to my finger so it is a little painful.

The moral of this tale is go with your gut instinct and don't do it because everyone else it doing it.  It may look pretty, but it will be painful and inconvenient in the end.  

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No, really.  I have been told many times by some of my friends that I am one of the most organized people they know.  But as we all found out, not everything about Martha was a "Good Thing".

Before I moved, I had a great conversation with one of my Babes.  We were talking about an acquaintance who had told her that my house was immaculate; never dirty and she didn't know how I did it.  Wow, she should have been there when we were cleaning and moving furniture.  I hate to admit that there were some serious 4 year old dust bunnies hiding under some of the furniture. 

I have been going through some issues and struggles lately.  I've tried to persevere in faith and I've headed out on my own expeditions.  You can easily guess which one was better.

There have been a lot of changes in our lives, as many of you are aware.  The most obvious being the move and what that entails.  But there has also been the loss of dreams and the awareness of what autism means for our family.  I believe God lead this move to strengthen our family, but sometimes I get into my own pity party where I just question and cry  out "WHY ME!"  I was the one people came to.  I'm  the one they think of as strong.  I'm the one who people see as having it all.  Do you see the problem?

Is it about God or is it about me?  This weekend I was hit with it by our Pastor's sermon on the 7 woes in Matthew 23.  I've been too consumed at what others see of me - my family, my friends, my church, the world.  I've let everyone see my facade, my white washed tombs. (Mt 23: 27-28), but I haven't shown them my authentic self.  I've even tricked myself in believing that God sees the facade.  Unfornately for me, He sees to my heart.  

He still wants us.  He is longing to gather us and care for us.  He wants us to come to Him and let go of all of our facades.  To be messy and authentic with Him.  To humble ourselves to His will and let Him do His good work in us.