I’ll admit it. I’m a duck. I don’t want to be a plain farmyard duck. Nor am I like that flashy woodduck. Perhaps a mallard? Yes. That fits.
So imagine in your mind’s eye a duck, a mallard duck. Peaceful. Gliding effortlessly across a lake. But the apparent outward peace can be deceptive. On the surface everything may be calm, but underneath the surface are two webbed feet paddling furiously, hopefully efficiently, hopefully with purpose and direction.
I can be that duck sometimes, especially lately.
Collected on the outside. Calm. Focused. Steady at the helm for my family, friends, and patients. This is a discipline forged over years of military service, medical practice and, quite frankly, just living. It served me well going into combat zones over Iraq. It served me well in the clinic, at the hospital bedside and delivery room during many, many life and death encounters. It’s served me well as a husband, father and grandfather. It’s just who I am—most of the time…
But don’t be fooled. Many times, beneath the calm exterior, my mind and heart can be like those webbed feet—paddling furiously. Anxiety. Worry. Feelings of being overwhelmed. All churning.
What am I to do? It is during these times I must realize my composure, surety, calm, and steadfastness are not products of my own strength. At least they shouldn’t be. I’m not that strong, big or good. When things start churning, it is time to refocus on the Strength that has under-girded me all along.
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You.” Isaiah 26:3
Dash Stories 