Words to Grow On

May 22, 2006

Under His Wings

By

Carroll Ferguson Rader

              I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the Pool of St. Jacque, but it was a bright, humid day in Haiti and we were guests.  The missionary offered to take us to see this voodoo center; Satan worship is prevalent on the island, something Christian missionaries contend with daily.

              We pulled up under high green trees and gazed silently at a small pool of muddy water surrounded by a low wall.  Here, we were told, Satan worshipers, some from around the world, come to immerse themselves in the filth, expressing their devotion by seeking possession by evil spirits.

              I felt uncomfortable in that place, all of us did.  Evidence of worship and offerings smoldered at the base of a tree.  People, women mostly, crowded close and stared at us with bleak eyes.  I knew that across town a large church draws hundreds to Christian worship but it was difficult to sense the presence of God in this place.

              Until I spotted a wondrous thing; floating like yellow feathers on the filthy water were three baby ducklings paddling behind their watchful mother.  Pristine, spotless, unspoiled either by the mud or the evil for which this place is renowned.  Tiny creatures living out their destiny protected by their Creator.  They paddled across the pool, propelled by pink feet, untainted by the mud and all the evil it represents.

              “Only God could keep yellow ducklings bright and clean in such an environment,” I thought.  “It’s as if He’s saying, ‘These are mine.  You may not touch them.’”

              And then a flood of phrases straight from the heart of my heavenly Father poured through me.  Strong, reassuring, protecting.

              -  touch not the Lord’s anointed

              -  underneath are the everlasting arms

              -  under His wings…

              -  He will hide me in His tabernacle

              -  It is I.  Be not afraid