Act Like A Duck

My husband and I have this saying, “Act like a duck”. This means that when the stuff of life gets slung in your direction, you let it roll off your back just like water on a duck. We say this a lot.

See, there are some things that I encounter which I deal with so well, but other times the least provocation and I am like a mama bear. It reminds me that the walls of this temple are still just the flesh.

I was reading Mark 7:14-23, NRSV,

14 Then he called the crowd again and said to them, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand: 15 there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”

17 When he had left the crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about the parable. 18 He said to them, “Then do you also fail to understand? Do you not see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile, 19 since it enters, not the heart but the stomach, and goes out into the sewer?” (Thus he declared all foods clean.) 20 And he said, “It is what comes out of a person that defiles. 21 For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: fornication, theft, murder, 22 adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. 23 All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”

In these verses, Jesus tells me that what is outside of me has no power except the power that I give it. It cannot defile me. It cannot bring me to avarice, wickedness, envy, pride or folly. These things exist because I have absorbed them into my heart.

Just by the sheer fact that my husband and I use the duck phrase shows that we believe we have a choice. I can take responsibility for myself. I can choose in any moment how I will react to the outside. I can shed it, or I can absorb it.

For every event, or outside stimulus, there are two roads. When my dogs walk on the floor that I am mopping, I can threaten to make them survive on the streets or I can call them to me, rationally. We see it everywhere. Go to Target and watch people with their children. In an instant I see parents belittle their kids, robbing them of dignity, and not teaching them anything in the process. We have choices.

The difference between the roads is the sin that we choose, and have chosen, to hold on to. There are some things that, when said, sound different than others. They raise our blood pressure and make us uncharacteristically unsettled. Instead of deflecting these comments, letting them roll right off our back, we catch them, hold them, stroke them, and watch them. Alone, they have no power, but tended they become part of our hearts.

Today, in My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes,

“The temper of mind is tremendous in its effects, it is the enemy that penetrates right into the soul sand distracts the mind from God. There are certain tempers of mind in which we never dare indulge; if we do, we find they have distracted us from faith in God, and until we get back to the quiet mood before God, our faith in Him is nil, and our confidence in the flesh and in human ingenuity is the thing that rules.”

When we see the outside moving in our direction, we need to pause. We need to recognize that this one might distract us. It might unsettle us, instill confidence in the flesh and temporarily remove complete faith in Him. These are the things that should look like water to us. When they come our way we need to remember that the Holy Spirit has built us like a duck. We are perfectly capable of shedding these words and events. We are able to take responsibility for our reactions.

Good luck acting like a duck!

Is there some situation, however small, that always seems to make it to your heart?

Father, thank you for giving us all the tools that we need to take responsibility for what comes out of our hearts. Continue to show us areas that need to be shed. Teach us how to act like a duck going into the stress of the holidays.

These Might Look Like Lemons

He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit (John 15:2, NRSV).

These two lemons are not a prize. They will not win anything at the Goleta Valley Annual Lemon Festival (yes, there is such a thing). So, if you question their value, I don’t blame you. Let me tell you what they are.

My husband and I got a lemon tree for a wedding present; untraditional, in that we live in a city. Luckily, this whole area was once covered in orchards. Apparently, citrus loves the sun and we loved the idea of growing something out of the dessert.

My husband, well, fell in love with our tree. He watched her and flattered her. He was so happy with any sign of growth it would almost bring him to tears. We were doing it. We were growing something together.

She sat at the front entry area for a year until we decided to give her more permanent accommodations. We moved her to the back yard and ceremonially placed her in the dirt. She paid us back with lemon blossoms, which might be the most hypnotizing scent in the world. It became our reason to leave the windows open at night.

And then, she made tiny-tiny lemon buds. My husband was delighted and I was feeling maternal. From the fall to the spring, I walk the yard in the morning. I stop in front of her, giving her encouragement to press on so that one day she can give us lemonade and shade. I think she likes it.

I have learned about pruning from my husband and this lemon tree. He comes from the green thumb line, so I concede in matters of care. I used to run and hide when he would strategically cut a lovely piece of growth for some reason to which only he was privy. I soon found that as he pruned, she responded doubly. My fears became irrational as she decided to become a tree under this tutelage.

And, I watched her. She morphed limb by limb, showing me that hope for lemonade and shade comes from her decrease. She never gives a thought to loss, only to thriving. This is where we stand in opposition.

Our lemon tree could be the mascot of the last three years of my life. Maybe it is my 35th birthday coming up, or my anniversary, or maybe I am headed for another season of pruning. I will be honest; on some days, it seems unlikely that anyone could be pruned more, in any period of time, than in my last three years.

My marriage has been one avenue that I have seen God walking down. He carries the shears, and I have walked boldly to Him to swat them out of His hand, while saying, “No more. I will not change one more thing”. In retrospect, I am so glad that I am the weaker opponent.

During this time, I have physically, emotionally and spiritually been places that I did not think I would go. My night awakenings became hours of prayer. God placed my efforts in arenas I would have arrogantly ridiculed only months before. I have found that as I become something that I do not recognize, I am more myself than I have ever been.

I do not fear this pruning season. I ask you, Father, to make me into something that blossoms and buds, something that is fragrant deep into the night. I ask that I would not struggle under your skilled hand and that I would grow only for your delight.

These lemons are the first that we could use from this tree. We have waited three years for this moment. She has made us a thimble full of lemonade now, but soon she will make us a pitcher and we will drink it under the shade of her arms. On that day, I will show you the pictures.

She is a picture of hope. Don’t you think?

Are you in a season of pruning?