Lessons from ducks on the pond.

Oh great, you are saying to yourself, he goes off line for a few weeks and then comes back writing about ducks! Nature Boy!

Bear with me on this one, OK? Just for old times' sake.

'Ducks on the pond' is an old baseball term. It means there are runners on base. It isn't used much anymore, at least not that I have heard. Probably deemed too offensive to the ducks. But the meaning, once you understand it, is clear. And there are things about ducks other than just baseball. There are ducks all over the USA and much of the rest of the world. Ducks in Miami and ducks in Anchorage might look a little different, but they all have webbed feet and they all quack. If you were in Russia and saw a duck there, you would know, immediately, that it was a duck. And ducks, no matter where they are, are edible. To me, the most wonderful cooking smell is that of a roasting duck. You may not agree, but that is OK. Still, they are eaten everywhere.

Then there are their piloting skills. Many birds flock. Perhaps you have seen the video of the starlings flocking in the Netherlands. Millions of birds flying and changing direction on a dime (or, being the Netherlands, a guilder) and filling the sky like an angry cloud. Ducks and geese, however, fly in a fairly rigid formation. The lead bird will change at times, but the formation stays the same. Every one of you reading this knows exactly what that formation is because it is so distinctive. 

'Ducks on the pond,' however, can also mean, well, ducks on the pond. Water has always had a huge effect on me, a calming effect. Even when the ocean is crashing ahead of a hurricane, it reassures me that God is in control and the world will work as He sees fit. And is not just the storm. I have seen the ocean or a mighty lake as still as a backyard pond. And there is the assurance that God brings peace. So it was, a few days ago, I sat next to a quiet pond, struggling to settle my troubled soul.

A half-grown duckling went scooting by as though on a mission, leaving behind an impressive wake. Well behind came another, giving off tiny little quacks. Since there was no mother duck to be seen, I got the impression that the lead duckling was leading its sibling on an illegal adventure. I watched both little ducks until they disappeared on the other side of some brush. In about five minutes a grown duck appeared which, I presumed, was momma. She was making a bee-line for the brush, so whatever her hatchlings were up to, it was something they had done before. Time passed and just as I was scolding myself for applying human actions to ducks, a duckling appeared, moving hard through the water. Following closely was the stately grown duck, moving as though she had the world under control. Behind her, and lagging behind, came the other duckling. Not trying to keep up and, when momma was a little further ahead, it would reverse course towards the brush. As soon as he changed direction the momma would quack and the duckling would turn again to follow the other two. The really odd thing was that momma never turned her head or body. She just knew when her wild child had changed direction. 

So, the lesson from the ducks on the pond. There is an order to things. A plan, if you will. God has put us each on a path, a path that has Him in the lead. It is an awesome path, one full of adventure. We are free to deviate, but there is a price to pay when we do. God has placed all of nature before us to teach us basic lessons, like the ducks on the pond, and those lessons can direct us as we go along. Follow the path He has set before you. It may get bumpy, it may lead to hardships, but follow the path to wherever He leads. And only then will there be peace.

Blessings.