One Dead Duck

Our children will never forget it. One of our frequent walks through the old neighbourhood to the university campus. A property on Keatsway Drive had a beautiful pond which often hosted the local ducks. Occasionally one would see traffic stopped as a parade of our waddling feathered friends walked across.

On this particular day one car did not stop and a male mallard was the casualty. Pinned on the road and rolling slightly over on the right shoulder and wing, this poor bird could not regain its feet. It rolled its neck and head left and up toward the sky, attempted to activate its wings, and died. Young children cried. One of their first encounters with death.

Poor duck. Made to swim, fly, grow, court, breed, feed, mate, brood, protect, argue, gossip and expire with one last upward look. Sound familiar? Have many lives not followed such a course? Hoping for nothing beyond? Placing no trust in the God Who creates, redeems, sustains, resurrects and glorifies.

Sad picture offered in most of today's schools, in most of the media, in most of the halls of scientific pursuit. Supposedly "enlightened".

Thankfully the human spirit chafes at such imprisonment and hopelessness. Refuses to stop searching for Cause and Purpose, Righteousness and Keeping Care, Legacy and Destination.


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