Please enjoy this post by our guest writer, and church member, Kitti Steiner.
I feel suspicious of the weather these days, not joyful, or hopeful, or excited for the season to come, or comforted by the reliability of the cycle. It’s peculiar to feel this way, but I guess that is part of feeling anxious. I’m generally a cheerful person, able to look forward, and there is within me still a spark of hope. But, currently, this feeling of suspicion, as if I can’t trust the world any longer, is making me sad about life. It is difficult to explain and I certainly understand people who live with this feeling all the time. It feels to me that I won’t be able to do my garden, and or enjoy it, because I don’t know what is coming next. And I am afraid that whatever does come next will not be good.
We had quite the deluge recently; it’s spring, that happens. As is my habit, I check out my bedroom window to see how much water has accumulated in our prone-to-flooding back yard. This morning there was a lot. It stretched across the width of our property and across the width of the lot to our east. Because of this, we get ducks. We have a pair this season that returns after every little bit of rain. Even if there is a scant puddle, barely enough for a kiddie pool, there they are. It warms and lifts my heart. Skip named them Hansel and Gretel.
The flooding has been a source of deep annoyance over the years, so we took measures to mitigate the problem. Now, the excess water drains in less than a day out to the front of the house into the sewer. Yet we still manage to attract at least one tenacious pair after every deluge or minor shower. How do they know? And why don’t they realize that the water will be gone soon? I feel badly about our removing their habitat so aggressively, but if we left it, there would be mosquito families instead. Snacks for the ducks, but not fun for us. Or the neighborhood.
Still, there those ducks are, trusting in that water source. Surely there are more secluded places to raise a family. But the ducks know that there will be water, all it will take is a major downpour, and then they can fly in and swim to and fro, or snuggle or waddle around the perimeter. And I get to watch and be refreshed.
Now I’m empathizing with ducks! I trust that my comfort will come, despite the drought in my soul. It helps to have the reminder of the ducks on my temporary pond that God is in control. They don’t have to worry about what day it is, what activity they should get up to, when they can guiltlessly take their next nap. God has taken care of all their needs. All the ducks need to do is show up, swim a bit, fish for the bugs swimming under the surface, and find a place to nap. Life is good for a duck.
Life is truly good for me, despite our current limitations. God’s eye is on the ducks. I know He watches me.
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