Arizona Ducks in a Row--and When Ours Aren't

  Jonathan couldn't help himself yesterday. After visiting a small and very hot farmers market with vendors set up in the parking lot of Tractor Supply, he and I went inside for some cool air. But the clearance racks, as usual, caught our attention.

 This was about 75% off and he just had to get it.

"Ducks in a row? (Mine keep wandering off!)" it said.

 Little did we know that the very next morning we'd end up taking our morning walk down at Fountain Lake--where there would be ducks in a row. 

With our own ducks quite out of order, at least it was nice to see three ducks in a row somewhere down there at Fountain Lake.

Even they didn't stay in a row very long. But it was fun watching them and several others, peacefully swimming and dabbling about, just they way they were made to do. 

We had just been up the hill earlier in the morning, about 6:15, watching the sunrise one more time. It's kinda fun seeing how many different places we can end up watching sunrises on the mornings when there are good clouds and the promise of a good sunrise.

Here we were standing uphill from a luxury golf course in the middle of gated communities. I wonder what elites live there?

I'm content in a simple condo with a little old and somewhat beat-up Honda, running around the streets like teenagers looking for fresh fun each morning. 

 

You wouldn't know the little lady crossing the street and squatting down in front of the prickly pear for a photo has been fighting stage 4 cancer.  

'Cause she sure isn't letting it keep her down--not when there are bouganvillae still blooming and Arizona sunrises to enjoy and ducks to watch, all in a row--or not.

Her own ducks aren't in such a good row, but she's still swimming. Or at least dabbling her feet in the pool like she did with Jonathan last night. We sat there dabbling in the darkness, feet sloshing in the cool water. It helps us get right to sleep to walk up there some evenings and dabble in the pool.

I was even able to go with Jonathan to church this morning. Yesterday the nurse called and told me that as of the last chemo treatment, I have zero immune system (based on the blood test afterward), but Jonathan was sick all week and I didn't get sick. The Mesa Bible Holiness Church is quite large with only a few people in it. It's summer here when snow birds are up north. So I figured I'd just go and stay away from people (which didn't work exactly because the man near us came to shake hands before we could prudently disappear).

 

 Luke Forsee plays the piano so nicely and preaches excellent messages. He preached from I John 2:28, how we can have confidence at Christ's return rather than shame before Him at His coming. The secret is abiding in Him.

I was asking Jonathan what it meant to abide in Him, because Luke was saying it begins with spending time with God before going out in our world. Being with God so that we will abide and overflow. But what about when you have to hurry to go outside for an early morning walk before the temperature is so hot you can't endure it in an Arizona summer? And then you have cancer protocol before rushing off to be at the clinic by 8 or 8:30 in the morning for IV hookup and treatments?

And then you come home and have to give yourself two more injections and try to eat something and wash the dishes and take out the trash and bring in laundry from the dryer and try to stay cool? 

And collect and turn in medical bills and write down an appointment so you won't forget, and write some thank you cards and print off letters and do your dry brushing to keep your lymph system going, and go outside on the patio just long enough to ground, and answer texts from your children and update your family and friends about your ducks that may or most likely may not be in a row on that particular day.

My days have been kinda like that. 

I snatch a verse or two of Scripture before our walk, have my prayer time when I'm down with a cancer treatment, pray out loud sometimes with Jonathan on our way to the clinic, and then I'm with people most of the rest of the day.

How can I abide? How can I be quiet with God when my ducks are not in a nice little row?

When I really don't even have any ducks, just a bunch of skittery quail in a motley little bunch?  

Just a bunch of poor little quail looking for something for breakfast?

For me the secret is abiding whether I have quiet time or not, whether I'm with people or not. If I have quiet time, I abide in God. I worship Him and thank Him and share my heart with Him. 

But if I'm scrambling all day and around people most of the day, I still abide. I take God with me everywhere--just a breath away, and in and around me and above me and under me--the everlasting arms. 

If quiet times elude me, and I'm with clinic people all around and needles poking into my port (that still hurts twice a week) and IVs roughing up my veins and leaving me whoozy and almost sick, and tattooed nurses taking my vitals and explaining what this and that IV is next, and staff are coming in to ask questions or tell me what to fast for tomorrow,

and therapists are letting me know it's time to go for this or that treatment...and then I go home and crash...

I just keep abiding. 

No time for silly guilt trips over did I have enough devotions this morning???

Just abide in Jesus.

Always thanking Him, remembering Him, watching for little opportunities to share Him with others, like an anxious fellow patient who comes to me and asks questions, as does another one who tells me how encouraging it is to hear that I am healing and there is no longer sign of cancer in my liver or lymph. 

When she tells me that she notices my laughter in the clinic.

They see my joy and my peace.

Because of Jesus.

Because in the middle of the muddle

the little lady with cancer, even if the morning is upside down, just simply and restfully abides in Him--

the wonderful Jesus Who doesn't need us to have all our ducks in a row for Him to abide in us.