I was loading my car early in the morning to head home from my daughter’s house to mine, readying myself for the five-hour drive, when I saw it. Actually, the smell of it came before the seeing. It stopped me in my tracks,  a bucket of dead skunks. Okay, it was a bucket of two dead skunks but that was plenty.

Has that ever happened to you? Probably not, the strangest things always happen to me first. But, haven’t you ever been minding your own business and stumbled across or caught a whiff of some serious unpleasantness? The kind of awfulness that can make you gag?

You know what I mean, that loss that stops you cold in your tracks; that diagnosis you never dreamed would be yours; the huge bill you weren’t expecting to get, that hangs like a dark stinky cloud over your head; that thing your kid did that you had prayed they would never do. Or maybe it is the words spoken that no one can ever erase, like “I don’t love you anymore” or “There’s nothing more we can do.”

The awful smell, the reality of what you see and now know, it’s like a bucket of skunks or worse. Sometimes, life contains skunks.

In this case, this bucket of skunks was the result of a hard night for my daughter and son- in-law, who live in the country. Their dog cornered these two skunks right outside their bedroom window and would not desist. Suffice it to say, the skunks lost and ended up in a bucket. The smell of their fight, permeating the dog, parts of the house and beyond. I actually smelled it from another part of the house in the night and thought my son-in-law was making coffee but that’s a whole other story.  Apparently, when you are sleeping, smells can be deceiving.

And that’s how I, at the beginning of a good day, ran right into a bucket of  very pungent, non-alive skunks.

Is there a Word for this? A faith response to our bucket of skunks moments? I think so.

First, acknowledge it. Go ahead, stop, smell and see that something really rotten has crossed your path.

Secondly, talk about it. No matter how bad it is you have to talk about it. Tell the story. We are still talking about the skunks at our house. Talk about your grief. Talk about that financial pressure you are feeling or how much your job stresses you right now. Talk about your worry over the health thing or the parenting thing or the darkness you feel.

Thirdly, pray about it. Some of the smelliest things I have lifted in prayer have taken on new dimensions under God’s healing light. Psalm 141:1-2, The Message translation even connects our prayers to a pleasing fragrance, “God, come close. Come quickly! Open your ears-it’s my voice you’re hearing! Treat my prayer as sweet incense rising; my hands raised are my evening prayers.” Can skunkiness be transformed into a sweet perfume under God’s watch? Yes.

Fourth, laugh about it if it is not too soon. I promise, there are moments of joy and lightness even in the toughest of things. When I was a little girl, at my first funeral, I could not understand how people were laughing, before, during and after the funeral. Now, I know, because life is mixed, sorrow is bittersweet and joy really  comes, in all situations, even if only for a minute of relief.

As I left town, my son-in-law and daughter were discussing what to do with their bucket of skunks; how to rid themselves of it. I just happily drove away, glad that it wasn’t my bucket of skunks. Which, now that I think about it, is a whole other point. Sometimes what’s ailing us is not even really our concern. What’s that saying, “Not my circus, not my monkeys”?  It might even apply to skunk buckets.