Quack Like a Duck

My friend John reminds me that I can be a sponge or a duck. I can absorb all of the emotion and distress of the world around me, or through faith in Jesus Christ, I can transcend it, shedding the spiritual and emotional attacks that pummel me.

The same is true for you. Let me tell you a bit of my recent journey and how the Lord is teaching me to be a duck, not a sponge. Then I want to share some strategies with you as to how you can quack like a duck!

I recently completed a difficult yet rewarding week in the workplace. I answer to a Board of Trustees who employs me and establishes the operational policies for my institution. The Board has a fiduciary duty, which means they are entrusted with the responsibilities of the vision, finances, and mission of Wesley Biblical Seminary.

We have an outstanding Board of Trustees. Each Trustee is deeply committed to the mission of the school. I have a lot of responsibilities to ensure that the Board is provided with the resources it needs to make wise and responsible decisions.

I write the Board agenda in conjunction with the Board Chair. I make any edits and updates to the Board Policy Manual to reflect changes made by the Board. I compose the presidential report and prepare an opening devotional to begin the meetings at 1:00 p.m. on Thursday. I collect the reports from the vice presidents and directors. A teammate compiles the Board portfolios complete with schedule, agenda, minutes, resolutions, reports, and policy manual.

Board meetings take place three times per year, and always includes a fellowship dinner. My wife takes the responsibility of hosting the Board.

For two years I have worked without an administrative assistant. That means that the organization and logistical planning for the board meeting falls upon me. In addition, my performance is being evaluated.

In spite of my best efforts at being a duck, I often default to a sponge by the time board meeting comes around. After a recent board meeting, I was exhausted. I went home and crashed on the couch. I spent a quiet evening at home with Beth. Saturday morning, I awoke rested. Monday I talked with my coach, John. I told him about my journey through the board meeting, the stress, the decisions, the anxiety.

John responded, “Did your anxiety make for a better board meeting?”

His question plunged to my soul like a dagger.

“No,” I replied. I had to be honest. In fact, the anxiety probably robbed me of some of the joy of the strategic decisions that were made.

I thought of the words of Jesus.

“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?

“So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:25-34 NKJV).

What about you? Have you ever asked yourself the convicting question, “Am I a duck or a sponge?”

Have you found yourself sanctifying your stress? Have you elevated anxiety and worry to a level of false holiness? “If I don’t worry enough about the tasks which God has called me to do, I don’t care enough. If I don’t care enough, I somehow lack in holy commitment to God.”

The problem with this line of thought is that it is just wrong. Our worry elevates our authority and responsibility to a level that only God can achieve. We try to take His burdens upon ourselves, rather than rolling them upon Him. Our faith in God becomes compromised by an idolatrous claim to authority, power, and responsibility that He demands we surrender to His Lordship.

Here are some things I am learning about the tangled mess of worry, fear, anxiety, and stress.

• Worry cannot be sanctified. 
• God sanctifies us in and through our stressful situations.  
• We struggle giving our anxiety to God.
• We multiply my own fears through our anxiety.
• An anxious life is a worthless life.
• A life consecrated to God is a worthwhile life. 

So, here is my question. What about you? Are you a duck or a sponge? Do you see yourself in my journey? Let me suggest some steps to you that I am finding effective in teaching me to quack like a duck rather than absorbing everything like a sponge.

• Trust God.
• Embrace the task God has assigned to you with vigor, enthusiasm, and faith.
• Remember, it's not your job. It is His. Perform the duties for His glory.
• Refuse to sanctify that which God will not sanctify, chiefly, worry.
• Focus on the eternal rather than the temporal.
• Accept God’s assignment with joy and thanksgiving.

Allow all of the extraneous issues to roll “Like water off a duck’s back.” Remain placid on the surface, and paddle hard underneath. Refuse to absorb all of the burdens that people would place upon you, and that you place upon yourself. 

And QUACK! Quack God’s praises. Proclaim His goodness in faith, even as you paddle furiously for His glory.

Are You a Sponge or a Duck?

John is a great friend to me. John has spent his career as a lawyer, a law school professor, a seminary professor of homiletics, a 16-year mayor, a fund-raiser, and a Renaissance man. In the last several years, John’s sister-in-law introduced us. I had expressed to her my need for a coach and friend to come alongside me.

She said, “I think you’d like John.”

I do.

In the midst of seasons of heavy burdens in leadership, John pours into me the leadership lessons he has learned throughout his lifetime. One of the most profound and powerful lessons John is teaching me has to do with how I handle stressful situations.

In the midst of one of my heart-sharing moments, John looked at me and commented, “You have a choice. You can either be a duck or a sponge.”

A duck or a sponge? What does that mean?

Think about it. A sponge absorbs everything around itself. As it absorbs, the sponge becomes heavy with the weight of its surroundings. Only when the sponge is squeezed does it lose its weight.

Do you remember the old joke, “How do you get down off a horse?” The answer is that you don’t. “You get down off a duck!”

The downy feathers of a young duck are water repellant. Even in adulthood, water runs off a duck’s back. As the duck glides across the surface of a pond, it appears placid upon the surface. However, all of the activity is taking place under the surface of the water.

I looked at John and protested, “But being a sponge has worked pretty well for me most of my life.” Then I confessed, “Well, not always. I think it’s time that I learn to be a duck.”

I remember when I was a student life officer. God allowed me many hours of listening, counseling, and pastoring students. They dealt with a wide range of issues including family dysfunction, sexual abuse, substance abuse issues, and sexual identity issues. I poured myself into those young people. I wept with them, empathized with them, cared for them, and led many of them on a journey to a place of wholeness in Christ.

Being a sponge seemed to work pretty well for me.

But not entirely. I made some deliberate decisions when I left the office each evening to leave the brokenness and burdens there. I sought to go home and give myself completely to Beth, Katie, and Nathan. After an especially difficult day of listening to pain and trauma, we would slip off campus to one of the few restaurants in Jackson, Kentucky, and enjoy the escape of a family meal.

I was learning to be a duck.

But it is hard for a caring, compassionate person to live as a duck all of the time. There are moments that the sponge in me really comes out.

My greatest challenge with being a duck is when I face conflict with another person. After a conflicting conversation, event, or series of events, my sponge really starts absorbing. I mull, ponder, complain, analyze, evaluate, and generally obsess about the problem and people involved. Absorbed in the problem, I find myself weighed down.

So, throughout my professional and personal life, I have found myself alternating between being a sponge and being a duck. I was never able to identify the process until John asked me the probing question.

Recently I returned to my office after having been out and about. I spied several foreign objects throughout my office. I grinned. Yellow rubber duckies were strategically placed on my desk, shelf and credenza.

My wife had been to a local dollar store. While there, she spotted a package of three small rubber ducks. They now grace my office as a reminder of my attitude, focus, and faith.