If God could speak through a donkey, could He speak to me through some ducks?
Gideon replied, “If now I have found favor in your eyes, give me a sign that it is really you talking to me” (Gideon 6:17 NIV)
June, 2011.
It had been three months since my missions trip to Japan. I was immersed in a new role at church and sort of forgot about my sense of calling to return there; however, my heart for Japan was still there.
It never left me. Even as I write this.
A colleague and I hosted an Asia missions meeting after services one Sunday. It was a time to gather those with a heart for Asia and share about different ministries they were involved in: Some were doing business as mission. Others were in the process of moving to Asia. When it was my turn to share, I said that I was simply there to support the ministry and was open to whatever God might call me to, but at the time, I had no plans to go anywhere.
At the end of the meeting, my co-leader had us break up into prayer groups and said, “If you’re moving to Asia, pray in group 1; if you’re doing business in Asia, pray in group 2; and if you’re just open to what God is doing, pray with group 3.”
I went to group 3 when two of my friends, who were moving to Taiwan and Japan, waved me over to group 1 and said, “Hey, you belong over here since you’re going to Asia, too.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll keep you company since there are only two of you in that group,” I joked as I moved over to their group.
We prayed for one another, and when it was my turn to receive prayer, I closed my eyes as the others laid hands on my shoulders and began to pray.
That’s when the image of a duck crossing the street from left to right, followed by ducklings, came back to mind after I had forgotten about them for two months. It was a strong impression, almost buzzing with power, and I got the sense that I would see this sign very soon.
The missions meeting ended. I had another meeting to rush to downstairs, but since I was a little bit sick that day, the co-leader of that meeting encouraged me to leave early. I headed for my car, which I had parked in a different parking lot that morning– an underground lot that I never use, but decided to that day for reasons unknown– and ran into a friend from church. We agreed to catch up over lunch at a burger joint about three blocks away.
I should have turned left to get to this burger place, but there was so much oncoming traffic that I decided to instead make a right turn and go around the block. This took me onto Jamboree Road, a six-lane major road through the city of Irvine.
As I made a right turn onto Jamboree, I had to slow down because a real, live duck was crossing the street from left to right, followed by about three ducklings, right in front of my car.
Three thoughts immediately raced through my mind:
- What are ducks doing on Jamboree Road– one of the biggest, busiest roads in the city?
- How did they make it all the way across six lanes without getting killed?
- I got the impression that I’d see ducks soon, but little did I know it’d be in less than a half-hour.
Awestruck, I prayed, “O.K., God, I got the confirmation I had asked for, and Soo and I are willing to go wherever you send us. But what about my mother? She loves my boys– her only grandchildren– and it’ll devastate her if I bring them all the way to Japan.”
I got the impression that we wouldn’t go to Japan until after my mother had passed away. This hit me with a deep sadness, but I shoved this feeling aside, telling myself that it meant we’d only begin preparing to go to Japan and leave years down the road, when that time would come.
My parents used to visit us every two weeks, usually on a Sunday afternoon, to have a meal with our family and spend time with our boys. This happened to be one of those Sundays. My parents came and all seemed fine: my mother brought some toys for my sons, as she usually did, and played with them.
There was one moment where she lifted my youngest, who was fourteen months old at the time, and hoisted him into the air like Rafiki holding Simba in The Lion King. She was 75 years old and had back and hip problems, so it impressed me that she could pick up a 20-pound child off the ground and raise him above her eye level.
I’ll never forget that image.
It’d be the last time she’d hold him in her arms.
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